Losing Rin
by Tsubasa Kya
Summary: How difficult could it be to get a woman with three kids, an anal 7inch demon lord, and no interest in romance to fall in love with you AND your twin simultaneously? What if one of those kids goes missing and she has evil wizards after her? Not too hard.
1. Depressed

**Title: Losing Rin  
**Author: Tsubasa Kya  
_Disclaimer: Sadly, I must resort to wishing on both parts._

**NOTE: Please don't kill me** I have had another idea, and through several rather expensive shrink-sessions with my best-friend/muse/PDA (seriously, she keeps me on track), I think I am finally ready to start writing the kinky HPInu Crossover I've had in mind. I owe you big, feathergriffin… hopefully you'll forgive me for starting yet another story since it _is_ a HP one… Now, if you'll excuse me, I must hastily write out my will… just in case something should _happen_. - TK

IMPORTANT: **This story follows the final _chapter_ of HP7** (Deathly Hollows). I have scrapped the Epilogue since we all know it was crappy and not as well done as Mrs. Rowling could have done it. Obviously as you will come to notice, I have also changed things, since I _am not_ following the timeline somewhat provided by the Epilogue. Again, I am NOT following the Epilogue's timeline. This story is canon Inuyasha and canon HP even though I scrapped the HP Epilogue.

**Inuyasha/Harry Potter Crossover  
Pairing: Fred/Kagome/George**

Chapter 1

His shoe barely missed the half-frozen Garden Gnome as he sulked through the garden of the Burrow toward the chicken coop. He didn't dare go any further beyond the house because he knew a proximity barrier had been put around the place, not to keep others out, but to keep _him_ in. He had grown tired of the inner confines of his parents house however, and couldn't stay inside the stifling building for another minute without exploding.

A scowl lingered on his blue lips. Already he was getting cold. It was the middle of winter, after all, and he hadn't slept well or eaten right in years, no matter that everyone who knew him were ready and willing to do anything for him, even feed him if he asked. He could hear the Christmas celebration noise from the Burrow and only scowled further.

How could they be happy? George Weasley moaned as once more a pale, lifeless face plastered itself to the window of his mind's eye. The face, so very like his own, had seemed like marble and it had not been warm at all. He was as cold as stone, colder even, and George hated his brother being that way. Tears prickled at his eyes and his depression grew worse than it had been in months.

The holiday gatherings always made him feel worse, because he would remember his brother and all the pranks they would play on everyone else. He would remember his sister, Ginny's, shrieks and his older brother Percy would always get so mad whenever a prank was pulled on him. He could remember turning Percy's hair pink one year with Fred at his side. They had cackled in laughter before dodging a thrown book.

Since Fred's death, George had been quite worse off, his depression sinking deeper and deeper into his soul, consuming him. He couldn't live without his brother, because everything reminded him of Fred. They had always been two in a bundle. They did everything together.

They were born together, they started school together, they dropped out of school together, they started a joke shop business together, they fought together, and even sometimes switched roles and shared girlfriends. They both knew the dangers of fighting against Voldemort and his minions, both Death Eaters and non-humans. They both had known very well there was a chance they would die. After all, the battle wasn't a game.

There had been dead lying everywhere, some of them were enemies and some of them were not. A lot more of the enemy actually survived, because killing blows weren't always taken by the good guys even if the opportunity arose.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest, and tears froze on his thin cheeks. He was so undernourished because of his own lack of interest in life that he looked almost like a skeleton, gaunt cheeks and somewhat sunken eyes, rings of a dark and heavy nature round his eyes from not sleeping. If George had been there, he could have done something.

But they really hadn't been fully prepared for what would happen if only one of them died. After spending a lifetime together, and even when they built their shop in Diagon Alley, the two of them still shared a room together instead of building separate rooms. Though they were two people, they sometimes never thought that way. And now, the duo was a solo, and George couldn't stand the silence he received at night when it used to be filled with jokes as they would prepare themselves for bed. He had always just assumed that if one of them died, the other would too.

With another miserable whimper, George felt like the world was yet again crashing in on him and longed for his brother's company, exhausted but unable to sleep, hungry but unable to stomach anything more than a bite-sized rice cake, cold…but unable to leave the snowdrift he currently sat in beside the chicken coop.

The last five years had been the worst of his life, and he couldn't picture the next five being any better. The twenty-six year old hugged his knees and let his forehead rest on his bony knees. Everyone inside was so happy to spend Christmas together, and he bet none of them even noticed his absence.

Ginny had invited Harry Potter over for Christmas, and he had brought their two sons along. Ginny wanted to work things out in their marriage, but apparently Harry had some sort of problem with the fact that Ginny's third child (whom she was currently pregnant with) didn't actually belong to Harry. Of course, Harry _did_ get custody of his two sons, since George's parents completely agreed with Harry that the boys should be with their father. Harry also brought his Godson Teddy Lupin along, who had come to live with Harry after Teddy's grandmother Mrs. Tonks died in a freakish three-broom pile-up over a lake while on a tour over Scotland's lakes. Teddy had been staying with Harry at that time, so he remained unharmed.

George's younger brother Ron had come home with his wife and long-time friend Hermione. She was, apparently, keeping him running around with things to do whenever he wasn't working. Hermione had insisted that she, Harry, and Ron go back to school and finish up their last year though both boys didn't enjoy that idea they had still gone. Ron and Harry managed to get enough of an education (both from experience and from school) to scrape their way into working as Aurors for the Ministry of Magic. Of course, Hermione and Ron had a daughter the same age as Harry's oldest, and another child on the way.

Percy came home, after a touching family reunion just before Fred died that had resulted in a few lazily tossed jokes before everyone got serious again and George's mom stopped sobbing happily. Percy had brought his 'friend' home for the holiday this year, to introduce him to the Weasley family. George was pretty sure Percy and his friend Mercus Bekibonks weren't sharing a bed because the Burrow was cramped. Percy's floor had plenty of guest room, and Percy's bed wasn't exactly built-for-two.

George's older brother Bill brought his wife Fleur over for the holidays, and Charlie, George's other-other older brother came home with his muggle girlfriend who still had doubts about the reality of magic even though she'd seen it performed many times. She was a muggle magician and worked with tricks all day every day so she believed all magic could be explained through a hole in the hat or a bit of fish-wire.

With all the people in the Burrow, not to mention the sickly transformed ghoul in the attic, George preferred the frozen snowdrifts by the chicken coop because to top off those who had come to stay for two weeks, they also had to deal with cheerful _other_ people popping in at random times to wish New Year happiness and Christmas giving.

George pulled up his sleeve and rubbed the long, jagged scar on his left wrist with the thumb of his right hand. The last five years, just thinking about them, made him want to vomit. Lee Jordan was taking care of Fred and George's Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes now, because George apparently wasn't in a fit state to be alone for an extended period of time. Lee always told George if he wanted the business back, he could have it any time. It was hard for Lee to keep the joke shop going _and_ his news program which had become so popular during the time when Voldemort was at large with his "Potterwatch" news program. He still did his news program, but it had been renamed.

Movement caused him to lift his head from his knees and he wearily stared as his father crunched through the snow toward him, wrapped in a heavy winter cloak. George hadn't grabbed a winter cloak. He simply went outside, wearing nothing else than a tee-shirt and ragged old jeans that had once belonged to Fred. He knew they were Fred's because their mother had sewn Fred's name on the left pocket.

Every night, someone came out to sit with him. He wasn't trusted alone anymore for some reason. Last night, it had been Harry who tread through the snow with his younger son tagging along behind him. Harry hadn't said a thing, and his son only curled up in his lap, three years old and tired after a long day singing carols. Harry knew George didn't come outside to converse with people, so Harry hadn't said anything.

Arthur Weasley was another person entirely. He sighed heavily and immediately drove into his conversation. "Georgie," he began, and George remembered being made fun of many times by Fred for being called Georgie (only to immediately pick fun at Fred for being called 'Freddie'). Weary lines of age crinkled Arthur's usually cheerful features. "Your mother is starting to worry about you…"

Had they really noticed George's absence? Maybe it was because the only person with only one ear wasn't there anymore? George didn't respond to his father. His eyes became glazed and he stared at nothing before Arthur continued softly.

"You, you aren't having - um, _bad_ - thoughts again, are you?" His eyes darted toward the very visible jagged line that ran up George's left arm.

George shook his head clear of the daze before blinkingly replying, "No. I want Fred." he told his father. He responded only because he knew the alternative option was St. Mungo's, and he didn't want to go back there again. No, he couldn't go back there again.

Arthur sighed, "I know, I know you do. We all do." He shifted out of his heavy cloak and put it over George's knees and tucked it over his shoulders as much as he could and being as careful as he could.

"You don't act like it," George said dully.

"We have to move on, Georgie," Arthur said hesitantly. "Would you want Fred to hurt himself and not eat and not sleep if you passed away instead of him?"

"I can't move on," George said. "How can I live without him, if all I see is him in anything I do?" he demanded. No answer was awarded, because his father didn't have one for him. "How can you all be in there, be happy, and celebrate when Fred isn't here to celebrate too?"

"How long are you going to torture yourself, George?" his mother asked suddenly, tears standing in her eyes as she stood before George. George wasn't sure when she got there; he didn't notice her approach or her presence until she spoke, and it startled him.

He looked up at her, but could only bear to look at her for a few seconds. He looked away, instead finding himself mute and staring at a small loose strand in the fabric of the cloak. He didn't respond.

"Honey, please, let me talk to the boy," Arthur half-begged. None of them really knew how to deal with George's depression. George didn't know how to deal with it either. Fred had died smiling, but was he really happy to be dead?

"No, Arthur," Molly said sternly, kneeling in the snow in front of her son. "I have tried all I can, but I can't take any more of this, George. I love you, and I can't continue watching you do this to yourself!"

George still didn't look at her, and he still didn't respond.

"Molly, please," Arthur said, moving to wrap his wife in an embrace. She clung to Arthur, but held back the tears that so wanted to fall with remarkable will and determination. "Please, go back inside," he said.

She nodded and she did go back inside, but each step she took looked like the one that would be made just before an abrupt turn-around. The door closed on the inner confines of the Burrow. A few minutes later, Arthur was confident enough to continue speaking.

"George, I know it's been hardest on you. Heavens know your mother wasn't much help constantly thinking you were Fred when you wore that cap of yours." He had a hat that would cover his left ear so that people couldn't see that he was missing an ear. He didn't have a problem with the ear thing, until Fred died.

Arthur continued, "But all you're doing now is hurting yourself and everyone else, and I don't want you to feel like a prisoner your whole life. Can we make a deal, George?"

George sniffed a little, feeling like breaking down and crying. He managed to hold back, and he nodded. He was willing to hear whatever it was he wanted, but that didn't mean he would agree to it after he'd heard it.

"One month," Arthur said. "Just for one month, go somewhere that you and Fred never were. Go somewhere that doesn't remind you of Fred. Spend one month, not thinking of Fred, but think of yourself. After one month, come home. If you still can't help but think - _those_ - thoughts, then… well, I won't stop you again, George. Just one month. If you can't do it…"

George glanced at his father and knew the man meant well by him. He nodded sadly. "I'll go," he promised. "Just one month, but there's nothing without Fred. I don't know why you won't accept that."

"The barrier is gone now. You can leave whenever you're ready," Arthur said before making his way into the house. No, George knew there was nothing without Fred.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. The story will not be as sad as this chapter. I hope to fill it with loads of humor. After all, we'll have Fred and George and Rin and Sesshoumaru and Kagome and oh so much fun! I hope you liked this!**


	2. Looking For Devri

**Title: Losing Rin  
**Author: Tsubasa Kya  
_Disclaimer: Sadly, I must resort to wishing on both parts._

**Inuyasha/Harry Potter Crossover  
Pairing: Fred/Kagome/George**

Chapter 2

Twenty-two year old Draco Malfoy sat waiting in the office of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current Minister of Magic for the Wizarding World. He had volunteered to work Christmas Eve that year, mostly because it was a lot better than staying home with his wife, mother, and four year old son. Christmas Eve was a regular evening of screaming, yelling, and whining in the Malfoy household.

Volunteering was a benefit to being an Auror and working in the Department for International Law Office. If he wanted to work, all he had to do was go in! He thought of it as 'volunteering' but his co-workers told him it was overtime. He'd rather be at work than at home anyway.

But the Minister of Magic had asked him into his office. Either he was about to get another lecture about proper work ethics ("Muggle-borns do have rights, Mr. Malfoy.") or he was about to be lectured about his 'volunteering' over Christmas Holiday ("Really, Mr. Malfoy, it isn't necessary for you to be here. We have plenty of other people who need the hours more than you.").

Honestly, Draco didn't mind the lectures once in a while, but this would be his fourth one this week, and it was only Tuesday! Honestly, the Minister could really lay off for once, and let him do his work. There were places to go and people to arrest and Kingsley had him sitting in a chair in front of the desk, feeling largely out of place and incredibly uncomfortable.

Truthfully, Draco had gotten used to working as an Auror on the field. His boss was Ronald Weasley (a dreaded enemy from Wizarding School!), and one of his co-workers who he had to work with on an almost daily basis was Harry Potter (Potty-wee-Potter, also a school rival). However, in the field, Draco had only to coordinate with Weasley every so often, hand in his reports at the end of the day verifying the things he'd done, and then he could go home to a screaming wife, yelling mother, and a whining son.

And there he was, _still_ waiting for Kingsley to show up and lecture him. Honestly, didn't the Minister have better things to do on Christmas Eve, like go see his family? Wasn't that the general idea of Christmas anyway? To spend time with the family? But no, the Minster instead chose to waste time calling Draco in for another lecture on volunteering… or maybe on proper work ethics. Either way, the lecture was sure to be one he didn't want to hear.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Malfoy," Kingsley said, entering the room and closing the door behind him. Draco would have said, 'Oh, no problem,' if it wasn't a problem. He said nothing though, because it was indeed a problem. "I had a few things to clear up on a recent assignment that needs doing. Since you decided to work overtime—"

"Volunteer," Draco amended for the Minister.

"—over the holiday," the man continued without appearing to notice Draco's interruption, "and Ron's not here to assign someone this project, I've chosen you to handle it." Kingsley sat down at his desk, a heavy sigh escaping him as though it were a personal affliction he felt.

"And this assignment is…?" Draco inquired, blinking several times as he realized he wasn't about to get lectured. That was definitely good news.

Kingsley handed over a file and Draco opened it to look at its contents. "The Japanese Magical Community has requested us to take in one of their people who has gotten in a bit of a bind. Nothing serious, I've been assured, but until things clear up, they would like us to hide the person for a while."

"Devri?" Draco asked, looking up at the name.

Kingsley nodded. "That is the name provided for us. They won't give us any more information on the person, and I do hope this doesn't come back to bite us in the arse, but what we are going to do is put the person in the Wizard Protection Program."

"Why would we take in a person we know nothing about?" Draco asked. "Do we even know their gender?"

Kingsley acted as though he had not heard Draco's questions. "Devri will meet you at King's Cross Station. They'll be getting off the Platform 6 muggle train at midnight tonight, on the last train. I've already sent a picture of what you look like, so they'll look for you rather than the other way around."

"So what am I to do with Devri when I meet up with him?" Draco was assuming it was a male. The name sounded male, although it might be misleading since it seemed to be a code name. "Is there a safe house I'm to take him to?"

"Once you meet up with Devri, you can show him _or her_," Kingsley emphasized 'her' so that Draco wouldn't get too complacent with thinking it must be a male, "to a temporary safe house until we figure out what to do with them. The details are in the file for you." He pulled a small key ring containing a few keys from his top desk drawer and held them out for Draco to take. "Make sure Devri is comfortable and has everything they might need before you go home tonight. These keys will get you in the safe house. Since you're taking tomorrow off," Draco had not been aware of that fact, "give Ron a heads-up on what we know and tell him to check up on Devri tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir," Draco nodded his ascent. "Is there any other information you'd like to give me pertaining to the assignment?"

Kingsley shrugged. "Be on your guard around this 'Devri' person. We have no idea what they did to get in trouble, or what they can do. All we know is that they're in trouble and close to some of the higher ups in Japan."

"Yes, Sir," Draco nodded. "I'll definitely be careful." The assignment excited Draco. He knew he had to be honest with himself and admit that much at least privately.

"Good," Kingsley said. "I know in the past we had some… differences… in our beliefs." Somewhat subconsciously, Draco scratched his arm through his sleeve where the Dark Mark resided. The magic had died with Voldemort, but the ink used to create the tattoo was permanent. "However, the past is behind us now. I'm trusting you, Mr. Malfoy. Let Devri know that we need them to stay in the safe house. Only you, myself, Ron, and Mr. Potter will be allowed in. We cannot protect them if the will not stay put."

"Understood, Sir."

"Good. Review the file before you go, but don't take too long. I would send someone with you, but we're short staff right now and I don't want to disrupt Ron or Harry's vacation." Kingsley shooed Draco out of his office.

Draco went willingly and then rode the lift to the Department of International Law Offices. Moments later he was standing in front of the office he shared with Harry Potter, also known as "The-Boy-Who-Saved-The-Wizarding-World-Twice". Also known as Draco Malfoy's rival for over ten years…

Two doors down was the office of their boss Ron Weasley. Draco knew Potter had been offered to be Head of the Department of International Law before Ron had. After all, who _wouldn't_ want Harry Potter to head up that department? Potter had declined, though Draco didn't know why. Surprisingly Weasley did a good job as the Head of the Department. Draco would never have thought it was possible.

He entered the office and moved to the left side where his desk sat facing the wall. Half of the room was dedicated to Potter's office space, the other was Draco's. Draco's was neat and organized while Potter's was sloppy and disorderly.

Draco always had the urge to clean up the other half of the room when he saw it, but he'd done that once and gotten into trouble for it. Potter was the type of person who couldn't find anything in an organized room. Draco's office-mate had spent a full day trying to find things, and absolutely nothing had gotten done. Since then, Draco had learned to just grind his teeth because when Potter's jobs took all day, some of Draco's assignments ended up delayed.

He sat down to review the file, frown firmly planted on his face. He had a bad feeling about this 'Devri' character. For some reason, he felt he should remember where he'd heard the name Devri before today. It wasn't a name that seemed like it would be very common, like Henry or Bob.

It seemed only moments had passed before Draco needed to go to the train station. He took his cloak from the hook, left his office, made his way to the Apparating Room, and apparated onto Platform 9 ¾ so he could easily get into King's Cross without being too suspicious.

He was early. It was only 11:30 PM. Platform 6 was mostly deserted. A few people scrambled about. One was a cleaning person who likely worked for the train station. He was currently changing the light in one of the posts. The others were all obviously muggles, too tired to even glance at Draco. Two of them huddled on a bench together, watching the track with pursed lips. Another paced back and forth, stopping every few minutes to check and be sure the train hadn't arrived without their notice.

He pulled his cloak tighter about his narrow form. Draco usually wore muggle clothes and a muggle jacket ever since he found out how much more comfortable they were. Robes made it so hard to chase down racing suspects. Most of the people who worked in the Department of International Law had turned to wearing muggle clothes. He would have had his denim jacket that evening, but his son had spilled juice all over it and he didn't even have time to perform a simple cleaning spell.

Draco figured going into work with a red stain on his gut would be recommended against. Aurors weren't the best people to mess with when it came to things that looked like blood. Instead, he was wearing his black cloak over an emerald polo shirt with long sleeves and black colored pants that Hermione Granger (Actually, it was Weasley-Granger now) called 'Khakis'. Granger seemed to think Draco had 'grown up' after the defeat of Voldemort because he'd stopped calling her a 'Mudblood'.

That was hardly true. He still called her a Mudblood, just not in her presence. Her husband happened to be Draco's boss, and Weasley was always looking for a reason to fire Draco.

Time passed slowly and Draco grew bored with the lack of anything to do. Just when he was about to begin toying with the idea of hexing the muggles (nothing big, but perhaps some sort of spell that caused hallucinations or something) several people stepped onto Platform 6 and congregated to one corner, casting glances alternately at the tracks, then the muggles, then Draco and back again to the tracks.

Draco was surprised, to say the least. For a bunch of people in robes and carrying wands to show up at Platform 6 (a muggle train platform) in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve during a time when someone who required protection was to be getting off the train… that said a lot.

He debated his options. There was still twenty minutes until the train showed up. He could apparate to the Ministry and drag some poor, hapless Intern working late hours in his Department into coming back with him. However, if he did that, he would probably get back just barely in time to see the train arriving and that wouldn't give him a whole lot of time to explain to whoever he had dragged along what was going on. Plus, there was always the chance that the train would arrive early and if those wizards were up to no good and that 'no good' involved Devri, they could have done it and gone by the time Draco got back.

On the other hand, the train could also arrive late—

WHOOooOOooOOOT! He could hear the approach of the train, signaling he had no more time and had spent too much of it debating his options. A glance at his watch showed the train was arriving early. He had no more time to debate. He watched the wizards closely, reading their lips. It was a sort of trick that he'd learned growing up in Slytherin House at Hogwarts, and definitely was a useful one.

"—things are escalating out of hand," said one.

Another nodded sharply. "We need it, and we need it now. Nothing else could do what it does."

"But it's a package deal. You need both, I heard," the third said. All of them turned toward the approaching train.

The train let out a bellow of steam as it came to a stop. The doors opened and a large group of muggles got off the train and rushed toward the couple on the bench. The couple stood up and kisses and hugs passed between the six newcomers and the couple; likely a family reunion.

A solitary figure got off the train and stood there for a few minutes, blinking but unmoving. The pacing muggle rushed toward the figure and the two embraced. No one else got off the train. The group of wizards looked upset.

They nodded at each other as if they'd had some sort of unspoken communication and then raised their wands. "Which one of you is Devri!" one of them shouted.

Draco's wand was instantly in his hand. The muggles looked confused as the three figures pointed _sticks_ at them in a 'threatening' manner. They didn't know they were in danger. Draco said, "I knew you were here for Devri." The men's attention was caught. "Drop your wands!"

Draco felt a spell hit him from behind. He fell forward and hit his head hard. "Damn it," he moaned, trying to sit up as the world spun. His wand lay several feet away from him, and the ground had blood on it where he'd fallen. He could feel wet blood dripping down his forehead. "Oh that hurt."

"Search the train. Devri has to be here." Draco heard the wizards say as the muggles panicked and raced for the exit. He didn't get much longer to think, because another spell hit him and everything went black.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Please leave a review! Kagome comes in next chapter.**


	3. Job Hunting

**Title: Losing Rin  
**Author: Tsubasa Kya  
_Disclaimer: Sadly, I must resort to wishing on both parts._

**Inuyasha/Harry Potter Crossover  
Pairing: Fred/Kagome/George**

Chapter three

"Mama! Where are my socks?"

"Mom, where's my hat?"

"Hey, sis, have you seen my shoes?"

"Socks are in the green pack, hat is on the coat rack, and your shoes are by the door," Kagome said with a sigh. She glared at the seven inch tall figure standing on the top of the sink faucet as though he were king of the mountain. "Could you go help them, _please_?" she asked him.

"No. I'm still waiting for my opportunity to spit acid into your toothpaste." He turned his nose up at her, his lone arm crossing his chest in discontent. His gold eyes were closed, but his pointed elf-like ears were twitching. He was alert to her movements, undoubtedly.

The once proud demon lord of the feudal era was definitely amusing sometimes, especially since he'd been shrunk from his seven foot tall stature down to a mere seven inches. At least it was easy to carry around clothes for him. She dressed him in doll clothes.

At the moment, he was suffering with bruised dignity in an outfit confiscated from Kagome's collection of various Ken-dolls. It was really too bad he wouldn't let her dress him in Barbie's clothes. The maroon ball gown Barbie wore would have matched the stripes on the little demon lord's cheeks and lone wrist, though it would have shown off his stubby left arm. The gold Barbie nightgown would have matched his eyes, and the blue jean skirt and tank top that one of her other Barbie's wore would have matched the blue crescent moon his silver bangs framed. And with the fact that his hair was down to the back of his ankles, he would have looked like a princess.

But of course, now was one of the times he was not amusing her. "I could squish you like a bug," she said to him. "Remember who's bigger here?"

He glared at her for a moment before crouching in Ken-doll's pinstripe slacks and jumping off the faucet. He didn't bother with landing, but instead formed his magic cloud under his feet, carrying him out of the bathroom and into the other room. Kagome left the door open only a crack as she stripped out of her clothes and jumped into the shower. She had learned to keep the door open a crack so she could hear the children in the other room otherwise they would cause a disaster before she could take a ten minute shower.

If she left the door open a crack, they would behave because they knew she could hear them. "Sis, my shoe has a big hole in it," her thirteen year old brother called through the partially opened door.

"Can you still wear it?" she asked, still washing her hair. She dealt with problems like acid burned shoes daily. She'd been taking care of her brother and two orphans for a year on her own and had so far kept herself together. At least her brother Souta and the young boy Shippou were twelve and thirteen, and Rin—the little girl—was eleven years old.

But sometimes they were a hassle.

"I guess so." He said dubiously.

"Well, I'll look at it when I get out. Make sure your bag is packed completely. We need to check out of the hotel by ten this morning."

"Okay." Two seconds later, she heard her brother shouting, "Rin! Those are _my_ socks!"

"They look exactly the same!" Rin shouted right back.

"No they don't! Take them off!"

"No! They're already on!"

"Shippou, tell her! Those are mine!"

"What do you care! You're always taking my socks!" Shippou demanded.

"I am not! Take of my socks!" Souta said.

"Mama!" Rin shouted.

"Mom!" Shippou shouted.

"Sis!" Souta shouted.

Kagome sighed and got out of the shower, drying as quickly as she could and dressing even faster in a blue turtleneck and an old pair of jeans. She left the bathroom, still attempting to towel her long black hair dry. "Guys," she said, making sure there was no room in her tone for lenience. The arguing and screaming stopped and she glared at each of them. "Rin," she said, looking at the child, "take them off and put on yours."

"But—" Rin started, but Kagome pursed her lips and looked back at her. She fell silent and started peeling the socks off.

"Souta, they are socks. Get over it. You _will_ wear them before they are washed."

"But she—" Souta started. Kagome turned her purse-lipped glare on him.

"No buts." She told him. She looked at Shippou. "Shippou, you did not need to get involved."

"But he—"

"Enough buts!" Kagome said. "Get your things together. Double check that you aren't leaving anything behind, and stand single-file in front of the door. Got it?" The three nodded and Kagome returned to the bathroom to finish getting herself ready for travel.

Being a parental figure to three children between the ages of eleven and thirteen was _hard_. If she added the fact that she was currently only twenty years old, barely out of high school, and definitely not incredibly well-off when it came to money, she figured she had about two years left in her before she could admit herself to the asylum. And if she added the fact that she had a miniature demon lord who hated her for tricking him (so consequently tried to kill her or make her life agony on a daily basis), she figured she had about half a year left in her before she could admit herself.

She finished up in the bathroom—checked her toothbrush and toothpaste for signs of acid melting just to be on the safe side—and went into the main room to put her shoes on. She quickly checked around the room one last time for anything the children might have left behind. Everything seemed to be stored safely in their green traveling pack. She put her bathroom utensil bag in the pack along with her dirty pajamas, and grabbed her coat.

"Are you all ready to go?" she asked the children. The three were looking at anything but each other, and refusing to talk. The miniature demon lord, Sesshoumaru by name, was sitting on the bed, the empty sleeve on his left side crumpling beside him.

"Yes, mama," Rin said.

"I am," Shippou said.

"I am, and I'm hungry too. Can we get something to eat soon?" Souta asked.

She never let them go eat the complementary breakfast provided by the hotels. Her experience with enough of them showed the children would never go for any healthy foods if there were donuts and muffins. Instead, she would get up earlier than them, sneak down, grab some fruits, and return before they woke up.

"I've got some apples if you're hungry." Kagome said, grasping the plastic bag she'd stuffed the apples in. She took one of the apples out and Souta thanked her for it before sticking it in his coat pocket. He didn't like apples, but she knew he would eat it when he got hungrier. She put the bag of fruit in the travel pack, shouldered their travel pack and pulled on her gloves before picking up Sesshoumaru.

"And where might we be heading to now?" Sesshoumaru inquired, climbing up onto her shoulder to sit. She really wished he would wear the Barbie jacket she had for him, but he refused simply because it was pink. Pink or not, it would be warm! Instead, he only wore the white dress shirt, and pinstripe suit from "CEO Ken-doll". And he was always shivering (though he wouldn't admit it).

"Well, since I'm still getting the hang of the whole 'teleportation' thing, I don't trust myself doing that with the kids _and_ with you, and as you said, you're currently too small to teleport more than yourself without having to rest for a full day." She walked over to the children, adjusting Shippou's hat. The boy's red hair (not currently in a pony-tail) hung to his shoulders and spilled in waves. He made a face at her, emerald eyes glinting in humor as she acted motherly. Well, he did call her mom.

Next she adjusted Souta's jacket collar, pulled up his hood (which he yanked down again) and bent to look at his shoe. "We'll buy you new shoes," she promised her brother. "As soon as we can afford it. And you, Sesshoumaru, stop ruining his shoes or I won't pay for you to eat."

Sesshoumaru acted like he hadn't heard her. "If you hadn't missed that Port-Key yesterday, you could have been where you were told to go."

"Hey!" Kagome warned Sesshoumaru, "I'm not leaving Shippou behind. I know you don't like him, but too bad." Kagome moved her inspection to Rin, adjusting her pink ear muffs and mismatched mittens. The zipper on Rin's jacket was broken, but at least it had buttons. She pulled those buttons through their respective holes and smiled at the cheerful little girl. "Alright then. We're ready to go."

"Again…" Sesshoumaru drawled in his squeaky 7-inch voice, "Where are we going?"

"First we need to find out where we are. After nine of those port-keys, I'm kind of lost. Then, we'll have to find a cheaper hotel to stay at, and I'll see about getting a job. Hopefully I can save us enough money to purchase really cheap plane tickets to get us to—or close to—London. Anything after that, I'll figure out when we get that far." She felt it was a sound plan, but all three children and Sesshoumaru looked skeptical.

"Okay, let's go," Kagome told them, marching them out of the hotel room. They checked out of the hotel the port-key had sent them to and when a gust of winter wind hit Sesshoumaru, he shivered before jumping from Kagome's shoulder onto her brother's head, then onto Shippou's head, and finally onto Rin's shoulder where she opened her pocket for him to crawl into and be out of the wind. Once he was inside, he looked like nothing more than a well-crafted doll's head poking out. "Should've worn the coat," Kagome thought.

As they walked down the street, Kagome tried to figure out where they were without asking. It would look really weird if she walked up to some random person and asked, "Hey, where am I?" after all. They'd probably have her committed for it. Figuring it out without asking turned out to be a lot harder than she originally thought it would be. For one, she didn't exactly have any landmarks to go by. Another reason was she couldn't recognize the language being spoken. She only knew a minimal amount of English as a second language, with Japanese as her native tongue.

"Wait here," she said to the children. She'd spotted a little coffee shop and was going to go in and ask where she was. "Souta, you're in charge of Shippou. Shippou, you're in charge of Rin." The young girl threw her lip out in a pout, so Kagome said, "And Rin, you're in charge of Sesshoumaru."

"I can take care of myse—" Sesshoumaru began, but Rin squeaked happily and dug the affronted demon lord from her pocket, hugging him much to his dismay.

The two boys nodded to assure Kagome they would indeed wait for her. "Rin, stay with the boys, okay?" Rin nodded and, holding Sesshoumaru firmly around the waist, began pretending he really was a doll and walking him on air. Sesshoumaru's arm flared jerkily and Kagome wondered if the evil demon lord would get whip lash or not before turning to look at the coffee shop.

The inside of the coffee shop appeared to much bigger than she'd first thought it would be, which was why she left her army of children outside. She could see them standing in front of the window. The coffee shop smelled of coffee beans, unsurprisingly. It had a sprinkling of oddly dressed customers wearing robes and heavy cloaks like cultists or monks.

The walls were painted white but had a ribbon of green leaves and vines with a bright red rose blossom decorating the foot and a half of space near the ceiling. The chairs seemed to be like leaves, stemming from the base of the tables and curling upward before flattening out to provide a place for a person to set their bottom. The tables themselves were like flowers, with sugar, cream, and napkin dispensers in the center of the table like pollen stems.

_ "Pardon,"_ she said, sure her English was absolutely wretched. She was assured she hadn't said anything bad when the solitary worker behind the counter looked up at her curiously and without any irritation or anger in their features. She had wanted to learn more English growing up, but unfortunately life ended up getting in the way of that.

_"Yes?"_ The woman asked. _"Can I get you anything?"_

_"Ah, directions here, please?"_ she asked. Had she worded that right? She was sure she had.

The confused look on the worker's face showed she had most likely said it horribly. _"You're already here. Why do you need directions?"_

Kagome frowned. How exactly could she word, 'I am completely lost'? She wasn't in Japan, which would have made things a whole lot easier if she was. Rin and Shippou didn't speak a word of English, and her younger brother was worse than she was. She couldn't exactly teach them something she herself wasn't very good at. And Sesshoumaru wouldn't translate for her even if he did know the language.

_"I come."_ She said, setting her palms on the counter. She pointed to one palm, and mimed a person walking with her fingers until her fingers were on top of her flat hand. _"Not here."_

_"You are from another country?"_ the woman guessed.

Kagome thought about that before nodding. _"Ah!"_ she said in agreement. _"Now here, where is here?"_ she questioned.

The woman blinked at her. _"You're lost?"_ Again, Kagome thought about that, making sure it made sense with her minimal English dictionary in her brain before answering with a nod. _"This is France. Paris."_

One of the people at the table looked up at Kagome and asked, _"How did you get here?"_

_"I travel…"_ Oh, speaking English was enough to give a girl a headache. She had to do so much thinking. _"Long way…far away."_ She nodded. That sounded right… she hoped…

_"No, how did you get here? What method of travel did you use?"_

_"Fly?" _she really hoped she'd answered that right. She was just kind of throwing out a random word there.

_"You flew in? Have you spoken to the International Immigration Committee at the French Ministry?"_

Kagome's eyes were nearly crossed in the effort to figure out what he was saying. She registered 'French' and 'Immigration'. _"No immigration."_ She said. _"I travel here far."_ No, sir! She did not want to immigrate to France. She was on her way to London. She just had a little set back to her plans, which included a young boy staying up too late reading a book and therefore being unable to get up in the morning.

The person at the table looked at his companion before standing up. Kagome watched the man turn to her. She was a little apprehensive, admittedly. The guy was tall, and even though he seemed to be well-dressed in his robes, she also knew that if evil could wear a baboon suit, evil could also wear monk-like robes and cult-like cloaks.

_"We should have you speak to the International Immigration Committee at the Ministry. They'll be able to review whether or not you can immigrate to France, and if not, they'll help you get back to your home country."_ The man said in what appeared to be fluent English. She admired him for his skills.

But then again… she didn't really understand a word he said. _"You help?"_ She asked him hopefully. Most of the rest of his words were lost on her. He nodded and she smiled at him. She put up one finger, _"Moment, please?"_ She went toward the door and he followed her. She got the feeling he thought she would just take off, which was ridiculous. She wasn't going to walk away from help after she just got it.

She poked her head outside the door at her three children. Rin was still playing with Sesshoumaru. The 7-inch demon's hair was a 5 ½ inch rat's nest, and he was definitely looking queasy after being shaken around so much. Ordinarily Kagome would help the person in such a situation, but he _had_ tried to kill her on more than one occasion, so she left him be. Souta and Shippou were having thumb wars. Souta had to bend down a bit, since Shippou was a foot and a half shorter.

"Guys," she said, "come inside. I got us some help. They might be able to help us get to London." Rin hopped inside cheerfully and Souta and Shippou followed her. Kagome looked at the man as he stared at her, somewhat stunned. _"You help?"_ she asked, smiling broadly.

_"Uh, are they yours?"_ he asked, pointing at the three children.

_"Ah! Rin. Shippou. Souta." _She said, indicating each child as she said their name. Sesshoumaru knew better than to talk or act like anything other than a doll while in the presence of others. She really didn't think the world would respond well to a seven inch tall figurine that walked and talked. He simply lay limp in Rin's hand, his feet dangling toward the ground, head lolling.

_"Okay, I think we may need a translator. Where are you from?"_

_"No here."_ She said.

_"Alright, this may be harder than I thought. Let's get you to the Ministry."_

The man led them out of the coffee shop and down the main street. She held one of Rin's hands as she walked and had Souta and Shippou walk in front of her so she could keep an eye on them. The man's companion walked behind Kagome and Rin. Souta turned to walk backwards and talk to her at the same time.

"Are you sure we should be following these guys, Kagome?" he asked. "I mean, they could have other intentions."

"We'll be fine! They're going to help us get to London."

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**Aunt M and Uncle J, if you've started reading this yet I hope you review (and of course like the story...that's always good but constructive criticizm is always useful!) Thanks for reading and please review!**


	4. Traveling

**Title: Losing Rin  
**Author: Tsubasa Kya  
_Disclaimer: Sadly, I must resort to wishing on both parts._

**The summary was changed! Please view it!**

**Inuyasha/Harry Potter Crossover  
Pairing: Fred/Kagome/George**

Chapter four

Russia was incredibly cold and reminded George of the time he and Fred went swimming in the lake at Hogwarts on a dare in the middle of winter. It had been so cold; they both got pneumonia and had to spend a few days out of class and in the Hospital Wing. Old Madame Pomfrey wasn't too happy, of course, to find out the Weasley twins had set up a disappearing act on all the hospital beds before leaving. Any person lying on the bed would slowly become invisible. It had taken Pomfrey six full hours to realize her patients weren't getting up and leaving.

George spent two days in Russia before he couldn't take it anymore. There were always memories of Fred that were brought on by extreme cold. Like the time he and Fred had spent the night on a dare in the middle of the winter in the astronomy tower at Hogwarts, with no blankets and no outside sources of heat except each other and the Patil twins, who were there to do their astronomy homework. No homework got done that night and Fred and George won twenty sickles from Lee Jordan for staying the whole night.

He went to North America, or more specifically, California in the United States. Most of the witches and wizards in the United States went to a school for Wizardry and Witchcraft in their local state. California witches and wizards specialized in doing magic for movies and creating those 'special effects' seen on muggle television. The United States was Pro-Muggle… like Fred. Fred didn't like that they had to limit their joke shop to the wizarding world. He left after only a day and turned up in Florida, USA.

He got to see what a real orange tree looked like, and remembered how Fred simply couldn't exist without his morning cup of orange juice. Fred would be the biggest grouch on the face of the earth if he didn't have his orange juice. He was also undeniably edgy without his orange juice, which wasn't to be confused with being the biggest grouch. Fred managed to pull off both grouchy and edgy at the same time. And if he didn't have his orange juice, he was incredibly quick tempered on top of being grouchy and edgy—not that he wasn't already quick tempered, but it got even worse.

He left after a day and again turned up in the USA but in Wisconsin that time. Seeing the cheese factories made him miserable. He remembered the time he and Fred ganged up on Ron and forced him to eat cheese—every kind of cheese Hogwarts had in their kitchens—and Ron ended up vomiting after two pounds of it. Ron had sworn off cheese for the rest of his life after that, while Fred and George had laughed for days.

George left Wisconsin and its cheese factories in tears and landed in Texas, USA not long after. He'd collapsed somewhere in Texas, lucky he hadn't spliced his head off from exhaustion, and ended up in the hospital after someone had happened upon him. Thankfully it had been a witch who knew a wand when they saw one, and his wand was also taken with him to the hospital, to be held until it could be determined whether or not it should be given back.

The hospital staff used his wand as ransom ("We'll give you your wand back when you've eaten something!"). He ate some of their food and let the nurse pamper him and was nothing but polite, but on the inside he was tearing up. Fred would have done the same thing; schmooze the nurse into thinking she had won, and when the nurse's back was turned, grab his wand and make a hasty escape from the silly accented woman.

The lone twin got out of the hospital easily enough, but his garments consisted of a hospital gown. It was quite breezy so a muggle law officer picked him up and took him to the muggle police station. That was, of course, after the officer had wrestled his 'threatening-looking stick' away from him and threw the confiscated wand into the bushes. When the wand blew up as it snapped on a tree, George was arrested, sobbing, alone, and wondering what Fred would have thought if he knew George's wand had blown up a tree—uprooting the tree and everything, causing it to crash down on a garage.

He spent three days in jail in a gaudy orange jumper before he simply couldn't take it anymore. He could feel his mind slipping. He was waiting for judgment by the muggle community and he could sure as hell bet his story was on every newspaper in Texas. Maybe he even got the front page, with a big picture. Fred always wanted to be on the front page of the newspaper. Instead, Fred got the obituaries too early in life.

By his fourth day in jail, he actually had a visitor. He hadn't told any one of his family members he was in jail, though, so he was confused as he was taken toward visitation. When he got there, he saw his visitor was actually the nurse and several others from the hospital, all dressed in uniform.

The nurse approached him with a small smile. "Ain't nothin' t' worry yer pretty li'l head up. The US Ministry investigated what 'appened, repaired th' damage, and will be handlin' cover-up. All ya have to do is come with us," she said in her thickly accented voice.

"What are you going to do with me?" he asked, hoping it was a death sentence. He couldn't wait the rest of the month.

"Why, nothin', doll," the nurse said. "Jus' take ya in for some kindly south'rn care. Once ya'll betta, we gon' send ya on ya way."

He moaned and let her take him back to the hospital where he spent two days under constant watch (they weren't letting him escape this time—as he learned, those Americans really could learn from their mistakes). He left healthier, with new clothes the nurse had provided him ("Don't want t' go 'round lookin' like a fella in a cult, now, do ya?"), the few confiscated items he'd had on him when the witch took him to the hospital, and directions to a nearby Gringotts bank.

Once he had more money, he got directions to the closest wand maker and headed there. He couldn't apparate without a wand, and he still had to go home in a month so he could off himself. He left Texas as soon as he had a wand that would work for him, though he hated the wand. Americans painted their wands and the wand that worked for him happened to be a very bright neon green. Fred had always wanted to paint his wand green, maybe not such a bright green, but he had wanted his wand to be green.

His next destination was anywhere, and anywhere ended up being Africa right smack dab in the middle of a desert. It wasn't long before he started hallucinating and seeing Fred in the middle of the oasis mirage. He would run toward Fred, but his twin always stayed the same distance from him. At night, he curled up in the super-heated sand and froze his buns, unable to sleep. At the first hint of light, he got up hoping to see Fred again.

By noon he saw Fred and tried to catch him. By nightfall, Fred was gone and he was so exhausted, hungry, and thirsty he broke down again. It didn't take long to lose the nutrition he'd gained at the hospital, especially chasing around a desert. By morning, he could barely find the energy to move. He was so cold, and he knew he was falling ill. At the peak of the day, when he saw Fred, he couldn't chase after his brother. This time, he swore he saw his brother come toward him.

Fred knelt beside him, worry on his features, and said, "You need to get up. Apparate out of here. Come on, I'm leaving too. Let's leave together. Ready?" George struggled to his feet, watching his brother stand up as well. His brother faded away then, and George panicked.

"Fred! You said we'd leave together! Fred?!" He didn't know where his brother had apparated to. He got no response from his brother. He took the neon green wand and held it up, imagining where he wanted to go before spinning on his heel. He came down hard on his left leg and heard something crack. Many people were around him, screaming in a language he couldn't understand.

He blacked out only moments later and then found himself in a muggle hospital when he woke up. There was technology everywhere, monitoring his every move, documenting every breath, reading his pulse…

He panicked and sat up, searching the room visually for his brother. Fred wasn't there. He couldn't be, because Fred was dead. How could George have forgotten that?

He turned his sights miserably to the cords and wires and tubes connected to all the machines around him and began disengaging himself from them. The minute one of them was removed, an alarm started to go off, beeping self-importantly. He ignored it and continued peeling himself free until he could pull the blanket back. He was going to stand up and start to leave, but instead, he couldn't stop staring at his legs after the blankets were away.

"M-my legs!" he shrieked. One leg was missing. It had been bandaged at the stub, which was just above his kneecap—or where his kneecap would have been if he had one. He must have spliced it off when he apparated. His other leg was in a heavy plaster cast. Ten seconds after he'd pulled back the blanket, the nurses came rushing into the room, ready to sedate him if they needed to. He looked at them all frantically. "What happened to my legs?!" he demanded, though his repressed logical side of his brain knew already.

They jabbered in their alien language, pressing him down on the bed. He flailed against their attempts. "Let me go! Fred! Where the hell are you?! FRED! You said we'd apparate together! **FRED!!**" Moments later, blackness consumed him.

The next time he woke, he was tied down. He could barely lift a finger, much less move any part of his body. All he could do was stare up at the ceiling above him. Tears slipped from his eyes, forming streaks down to his ears…or rather, ear. He was imprisoned again. Not like back at his parents' house, and not like when he was in jail in Texas. This time, he couldn't even _move_. He couldn't feel his body, as if some sort of potion were inhibiting that.

He didn't know how long it had been since he woke up before someone came, but he knew forever had come and gone and come again. The face popped into his vision, all smiley and chirpy and just the thought of being smiley and chirpy made George want to vomit.

"Hello." The man said. "I'm Doctor Toshi. Do you speak English?"

"Yes," George said because he couldn't nod. "Where am I? What happened to my legs?"

"For one, you're in Tokyo, Japan. Finest city on the planet. For two, we don't really know. We were hoping you could tell us that." Doctor Toshi said.

"I… must have apparated wrong," George said.

"Apparated? I'm not familiar with that English term." Doctor Toshi admitted.

"Er, you know, like teleporting. Going from one place to another?" Doctor Toshi looked at him like he was crazy and George groaned. He now knew it was a muggle hospital. His luck was terrible when Fred wasn't around. "Did you happen to find my leg?"

"Yeah, but it was in pieces. Irreparable." Doctor Toshi chirped. "But there is this experimental program, you know. We could attach a prosthetic leg. The process is quite simple, and with the use of modern medicine, relatively painless. Would you like to give it a whirl?"

"What the hell kind of doctor are you?" George demanded of the cheerful figure leaning over him. No doctor he had ever met in his whole life had been so happy. The doctoring business came with the benefit of being morose! Or it should, if it didn't. "I don't want a damn prosthetic leg, I want _my_ leg!"

"Well, like I said, it's in pieces. Sliced like a piece of ham. Pretty gory actually. Saw it myself. And it's not like you can _grow_ legs on trees or anything. You get two to screw up and then you go on to prosthetics. But the prototype of my particular prosthetic limbs works—or should work—just as well as the real thing. Just don't try going through the metal detectors at the airport." Doctor Toshi nodded as he scratched his chin.

George sighed. He had to schmooze yet another doctor. Didn't that just beat all? Fred would have jumped to the cause, but George didn't want to because doing so would remind him of Fred. "Can you untie me, please? And maybe… help me sit up?" He looked at the doctor with the Weasley twin's patented puppy dog eyes no one in the world could resist.

"I don't know…" the doctor said. "I don't want to get in trouble… I already lost my medical license for malpractice."

Yeah, that definitely made George want to let this guy work on his non-existent leg. NOT! He kept giving the doctor those Weasley eyes. "You won't get in trouble. I'll take all the blame…"

The doctor thought about it for a moment before starting to undo the ties. Doctor Toshi then pushed the button on the bed frame that would lever the bed into sitting position and helped George to sit up. Really, muggle inventions were quite curious. No wonder his father was obsessed with them. "So, what'd'ya say?" the doctor asked excitedly. "Want a prosthetic limb?"

"I… I need to think about it," George said. "Can I have a little while to think it over?"

"Sure! How much time should I wait before coming back? How much time do you think you'll need?"

"I don't know… but I know something that would help me think…" The doctor was falling for it so easily, George barely had to use any effort at all.

"What would that be?"

"My wa—er—stick. I might've been holding it when they found me."

"Oh! If you had anything, they'd have put it with your personal effects in the closet." He jutted his thumb at the closet. George held in the urge to strangle the man. Fred would have said it so similarly, like 'Get it yourself if you want it'.

"I can't walk.. so could you check if its there?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure." The man got up and walked across the room, opening it up and showing a freshly cleaned set of clothes (one pant leg probably no longer there) and a bright neon green wand. The man brought the green wand over. "So, half hour? An hour?"

George took his wand and pointed it at the doctor. "Never." He said. "Obliviate," he snarled and the jet of light came out of his wand and knocked the doctor over. That doctor would never be doing his 'experimental procedures' again, George was sure. George then pointed his wand at the clothes in the closet. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said, swishing and flicking his wand. The clothes floated over at his command. George knew this time he had to get the apparating spell right or he could lose his head—literally.

It would be hard on just one leg, and a broken leg at that, but he knew he would do it because he had to. He didn't know how many days it had been since he'd left The Burrow, but as soon as he got wherever it was he was going, he could figure it out. He had to get out of here, before something happened. He needed to be able to return home at the end of January to off himself. It never really occurred to him that he could have killed himself easily at any time since leaving home.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	5. Devri Missing

**Title: Losing Rin  
**Author: Tsubasa Kya  
_Disclaimer: The kinky story...I regret to be poor. Still..._

* * *

Chapter five 

Draco awoke to the sound of shuffling papers. It was a most annoying sound indeed, coupled with the sound of periodic chewing or gulping. The sound was comparable to the noise of his son, Scorpius, trying to eat and draw with muggle crayons (a Christmas gift from Hermione and Ron—or more from Hermione, who was attempting to be hospitable to her neighbor) simultaneously.

Draco cracked one eye open because he knew for a fact there was no way he was at home. The last memory he had was being hit with a powerful spell and possibly cracking his head on the ground. Aside from that, there was no yelling from his wife in the background, and his mother wasn't screaming at him either.

Draco had really never known that Pansy would be his mother's twin personality _before_ marrying the woman… bloody women with their multiple personalities… They were great when they didn't have what they want, but as soon as they got it they became totally new people… it was almost frightening.

But more on point… what was making that noise? The white-washed ceiling above him proved he was not at home. He got the feeling he was in St. Mungo's or some place similar. He was right. A brief glance around told him he was indeed at St. Mungo's, but it told him also that there was a person sitting casually next to his bed with a bored expression on his face as he shuffled through a Witches' Weekly magazine and ate from a bag of chips (obviously muggle brand).

Draco felt his glance turn into a sneer as it usually did with Harry Potter present. What was Potter _doing_ just sitting there and reading a magazine and eating chips? Draco attempted to remind himself not to blow up at the boy-who-lived-at-one-point-then-half-died-then-lived-then-killed-Voldemort-and-saved-everyone-and-became-a-hero-_again_. Gods, that was a mouth full.

Draco attempted to sit up… key word being _attempted_. His head hurt so bad he doubted he'd be getting up any time soon and the moment he tried moving, the world started spinning enough that he nearly vomited.

Harry set his chips and magazine aside and stepped aside the bed, resting a hand on Draco's shoulder to press him carefully back down. "You shouldn't move, Malfoy." He said in the usual voice of a do-gooder. That was a good reason to hate Gryffindors! They always sounded like well-wishers, although it wasn't true. Deep down, all Gryffindors had it in for Slytherins. They were truly like lions… lion-like in nature, crouching in the tall grasses, just waiting, waiting for their prey to come along and – POUNCE! Dead Slytherin.

Why else would Gryffindors make such great Aurors? The only other Slytherin Draco knew of that even worked in the Ministry was Mercus Bekibonks, and _he_ wasn't normal in the head. He worked in the Department of Muggle Affairs, vying for the rights of muggles and mudbloods (or as Kingsley would have it, 'Muggle-borns'). That just wasn't proper Slytherin behavior!

Well, neither was working for the greater good by eliminating that which would threaten the wizarding community as an Auror. Geez, it was almost disgraceful to be a Slytherin and work for the Ministry. All Draco's other Slytherin acquaintances were either dead, in Azkaban (guarded by specially trained Aurors now, as all Dementors had been chased into a dark, scary forest that probably shouldn't be disturbed anyway after Voldemort's downfall), or working minimum wage labor jobs because their crimes weren't enough to put them in Azkaban but were enough to make serious employers think twice.

Draco really owed Harry Potter… if it weren't for him, he wouldn't have the job as an Auror…If it weren't for Harry, he would be in jail. His mother would be in jail. He wouldn't have his annoying son, and wouldn't have married Pansy. Hm, well, the 'marrying Pansy' bit wouldn't be so bad to have redone… He could easily make due without the woman…

But did anyone ask Draco's opinion when Pansy decided they'd get married? Not really. Of course his logical mind demanded to know why he hadn't rejected Pansy, or maybe not shown up to the wedding at all, but then he could easily blame it on the fact that Pansy was perfect… until after they married.

"You alright?" Harry asked Draco, startling him out of his stupor.

Draco blinked at Harry. "I can barely move, my head feels like I slammed it on some very hard concrete, and I feel like I did the day after you used _Sectumsempra_ on me back in school. Do I look okay to you?"

"Right," Harry rolled his eyes. "You were evil back then, so I say it was totally legitimate." He paused and then corrected himself, "Okay, maybe not so legitimate, because you weren't so much evil as you were a stupid git being manipulated by a super powerful antagonist who was holding your parents hostage to get you to cooperate with his demands."

"Wow, you really know how to make a Slytherin feel good about himself," Draco drawled.

"Kingsley didn't ask me to come here and make you feel good, but hey, one point to me for going the extra mile," Harry sat back down and picked up his food again, crunching away as he returned to his magazine.

"So why are you here then?" Draco asked curiously.

"I'm supposed to question you when you wake up about Devri."

"Why aren't you questioning me?"

"I'm reading."

"But you're supposed to be questioning me. I am awake, and I'd rather not spend more time in your company than necessary," Draco said. Staring at the ceiling was annoying, but he didn't dare moving.

"Did you know Luna Lovegood made it in Witches' Weekly as the hottest female modeling witch in England?" 

"What does that have to do with anything?" More like, 'How was that even possible,' Draco thought.

"You wanted me to question you. I asked you a question."

"What about Devri?"

"What _about_ Devri?"

"Where is he?" Draco was starting to get really frustrated.

"I have no idea. You?"

"He didn't get off the train."

"Oh no?" Harry said.

"You don't care…?" Draco paused to let that sink in. Harry Potter didn't care that some random person might be in trouble and needed the help of the English ministry of magic to get out of this trouble.

"Not particularly."

"Why not?"

Harry set the magazine down. "That's all I ever do is care about everyone else. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of knowing that Ginny cheated on me because I was too busy being an Auror to see to her needs. I'm tired of my godson and children crying about how I work too much. I'm tired of my friend George acting like he's a zombie. So _today_ was supposed to be all about me, and my family. It's Christmas Day. I should be spending it in the Weasley's living room passing about gifts, but instead I'm here questioning you on something you won't know about because Devri wasn't on the train to begin with. We don't know where Devri is, and the Japanese magical community won't give us any information either. All we get is a crummy **'We're looking into it'** and that's it! So ask me again if I give a rat's ass! No, I don't, because it's Christmas Day and I have to work!"

Draco blinked several times before falling silent. He didn't know what to say. The outburst seemed so completely unlike anything he knew about Harry. Finally after a few moments he managed to say, "So Loony Luna made top model?"

Harry responded lightly, "Surprising, isn't it? I haven't heard from her in a while. Says here she's engaged to Neville Longbottom—you remember him."

"Remembrall kid, yeah I remember him."

"Well, it seems her career has taken her to France at least." Harry muttered. "And Neville is opening a greenhouse in Paris according to this. Exciting isn't it?"

"You don't have to stay," Draco said finally. He felt his time would be more productively used sleeping rather than chit-chatting idly about useless things that would serve no ultimate purpose later on in his life and would never again be brought up.

Never, ever be brought up again.

"No, I do. Part of the job… God, I love my job," he grumbled irritably and things fell very silent in the room.

* * *

Thanks, please review!


	6. Invisible Man

**Title: Losing Rin  
**Author: Tsubasa Kya  
_Disclaimer: The kinky story...I regret to be poor. Still..._

* * *

Chapter six

"How are you settling in, Miss Higurashi?" Alexandre Lamour asked Kagome a few days after they missed the Port-Key and met within the French Ministry of Magic. Alex was a great guy and the one who had translated everything Kagome and the ministry officials had said so that proper communication between the lost woman and the ministry could be made.

Thanks to him, Kagome was able to find out that she somehow managed to inform the ministry officials she wanted to immigrate to France. That was far from the truth, but Alex was able to sort things out and save her the danger of being transported back to her home country.

He'd listened to what she had to say and then told the ministry officials about her situation. She was supposed to catch a Port-Key from France to England after which she would take a train to King's Cross station in London and someone would be meeting her there. Kagome couldn't exactly tell Alex the _whole_ story, but she managed to tell him enough that the ministry gave her a temporary pass to stay in Paris until the next Port-Key to England at the end of January.

She smiled at the Japanese speaking French man. "I'm doing fine, Alex." It was his third time coming to check on her… that day. And it was only two PM. Who spent New Years Eve visiting random people they didn't know? Apparently Alex did.

"Well, that's good," Alex said and she stepped aside so he could get into the small hotel room. Alex had been so nice to her, offering lots of assistance to her when she needed it. He even bought her a tape player and a set of tapes for learning English on her own. She hadn't touched them still, because the first thing she did after she found a cheap hotel (with Alex's assistance) was go out to find a job. Again with Alex's help, she managed to get a job at the coffee shop she'd first run into the ministry officials at.

"Alex!" Souta and Shippou both greeted the man cheerfully. Rin was more hesitant to greet him at all and dragged Sesshoumaru into the bathroom to hide. Kagome guessed that after her parents were killed by bandits, it wouldn't be very easy for the girl to warm up to humans. Everyone said that demons were simply evil, but Rin always said that humans were worse than demons.

"Hey guys," Alex said, pulling small, wrapped packages out of the inside of his coat. He handed one to Souta and another to Shippou. "I got you some gifts to bring in the New Year."

The two boys tore into the wrapping. Kagome smiled at her 'son' and her brother and then closed the door. Souta gasped, "It's a PSP! Thanks Alex! Kagome, _look_!"

"Er, what is it?" Kagome asked. She wasn't exactly 'up' with the trends of the game world. She could tell it was some sort of game thing, but the last time she played a game was when her mother bought her a handheld console for the game Astroids. That was a very long time ago.

"A PlayStation Pocket! _Duh_!" Souta said before disappearing into the corner of the room to gloat over-slash-play with his new whatever-it-was. She had no idea what was so great about a 'PSP', but then again, her friends from high school couldn't understand what was so great about a sword made in the feudal era and she was fascinated when she came across it a few months ago.

Shippou tore open his gift and showed it to Kagome in pure excitement. "Mom, look!" She glanced at the thing Alex had given Shippou; it appeared to be a rather expensive looking painting kit with jars of color and nice paintbrushes of all sizes in a little plastic paintbrush case. All of it was arranged neatly in a sturdy, padded duffle bag. There was even a small, collapsible easel and a pad of thick painting paper.

Kagome smiled externally at the boy, but internally she was running over all the possible motives Alex might've had to spend so much money on her kids. If he'd spent as much on Shippou and Souta, he'd probably spent an equal amount on whatever the third gift for Rin was.

After about a moment of mental contemplation, she simply shrugged off her worries. She was pretty good at dealing with trouble as it came, and at least if Alex was trouble (plotting some sort of nefarious scheme beneath that handsome exterior) he _wasn't_ wearing a baboon suit like the last evil bad guy Kagome had to deal with. Sure, Naraku might've been a fairly handsome character beneath that baboon suit, but he obviously didn't have a sense of smell because wearing the skin of a dead animal out in the rain really smelled _awful_.

Shippou bounced over to the space between the desk and the wall of the hotel room so he could set up his new present. Alex turned to Kagome with a handsome good-guy smile plastered on his face. "Rin is in the bathroom." Kagome said, responding to the inquiry she figured was about to come. "She really doesn't want to see you."

Alex didn't miss a beat. "Ah well, I suppose I'll just give this to you then." He handed her the gift for Rin. "It's a doll. I figured her little girl doll could use some company." Kagome snickered internally. Sesshoumaru had just been called a 'little girl doll'. Sesshoumaru, a dog demon prince, had been called a girl doll. If Sesshoumaru's excellent hearing had heard that through the bathroom door, he was probably seething.

"Well, thank you, Alex. I'm sure she'll love it," Kagome said. "I know it seems rather rude of me, but I'm working at the coffee shop in the morning and I should really get some sleep. Was there anything else you came over for this time?" It was his third time that day, after all, and she wasn't really joking about wanting to get some sleep. She had to be at the coffee shop by four thirty AM, which meant getting up even earlier to get there on time.

"I guess that was all. I saw those things and thought of the kids, so I figured 'why not?' Hey, did you need someone to watch them while you work? I could swing by. I'm not working." Maybe it was his blinding sparkly teeth or maybe it was the fact that she didn't really like the idea of someone else watching Rin, Shippou, and Souta, but she declined the offer.

"No, thanks. They can come to work with me and sit at a table. Miss Veronica said it wouldn't be a problem."

"Okay, well… I'll see you later then. I hope it goes well at the coffee shop," Alex told her. She watched him leave and then stepped over to the bathroom. After a few knocks, Rin opened the door and peered cautiously out of it.

"This is for you." Kagome said.

"I don't want anything from that bad man," Rin said firmly.

Kagome forced herself not to roll her eyes at the girl. "He said it's a doll. Maybe there are clothes with it that will fit Sesshoumaru?" Kagome suggested. Rin seemed to contemplate the idea for a few moments before she nodded and the bathroom door swung open. She held out one hand for the gift; Sesshoumaru was still held quite firmly in her other hand. He looked bored of struggling to get away from her with only one arm and rather irritably tapped a clawed finger against Rin's knuckle. The expression on his face was one of those 'where did I go wrong in life' expressions.

She could easily answer his expression with a simple statement. He went wrong when he let a silly little girl from a futuristic time dimension con him into agreeing to do something he would've been just as well off if he had not agreed—probably better off not agreeing. But he'd agreed and that was basically the root of all of his 7-inch problems. At least he had less of a chance at killing her if he was only seven inches tall…

And he certainly did attempt to kill Kagome enough for her to realize that shrinking him was _definitely_ to her advantage. She was never, ever going to undo that spell. The world would thank her for not undoing the spell too, because a 7-foot tall angry demon prince from another time dimension was the definition of mass destruction and mayhem. A 7-inch tall angry demon prince from another time dimension was only the definition of trouble to himself should any circus folk get their hands on him.

Kagome might have felt sorry for Sesshoumaru… if he didn't spit acid on her toothbrush that morning. If she'd brushed with that, she wouldn't have to ever worry about plaque again because she wouldn't have teeth anymore.

Kagome handed over the gift before Rin could change her mind. "You're going to need to go to bed soon, too. We have a really early day tomorrow. Okay?" Rin nodded and disappeared into the bathroom again.

After that, it took Kagome much longer to get the kids to go to bed than she would've liked. She barely felt like she got to sleep at all before she had to get up and start getting the kids up so she could get to work. It was times like that particular moment of waking (at two AM) when she sorely missed her mother and grandfather, both of whom had died in an earthquake and left Souta in her care.

She muttered curses under her breath that would make the dead turn over in their graves if they heard her, though she wasn't sure if she was angry at weak human architecture or mother nature for collapsing the weak human architecture…

She shook Rin's shoulder to wake her. In the small, two-bed hotel room, Shippou and Souta shared a bed, and Kagome and Rin shared a bed. When Kagome could only afford one-bed hotel rooms (some of the hotels they had stayed at recently were quite pricy, but they had no other options), she slept on the floor and let the kids cuddle on the soft mattress.

"Wake up, Rin," Kagome said.

Rin groaned, "Do I _have_ to, mama?"

"I'm afraid so, sweetie," Kagome told her. "I need you to go brush your teeth and get dressed before the boys are awake. Then you can lay down for a few more minutes until I'm ready." The eleven-year-old moaned in misery before rolling out of bed and rubbing her eyes. She practically sleep-walked to the bathroom, flicking on the light and squeaking as the light blinded her temporarily.

Kagome lay in bed for a few minutes more, listening to the water running in the bathroom. Finally she got up and dug in their travel bag for clean clothes for Rin. She took them into the bathroom for her and set them on the toilet seat cover. After a great deal of moaning and groaning, Kagome managed to get all three children to brush their teeth and get dressed; then she let them doze off as she got ready herself.

She knew they were all still tired when Souta didn't yank his jacket hood back down. They took everything with them; Kagome didn't really get the physics behind the impossibility that was their green traveling pack, but she still managed to safely, and securely, store the kids' new gifts from Alex and nothing had to be left behind. Even though they were going back to the hotel later, Kagome wasn't going to leave their stuff, just in case they had to make a hasty departure.

It seemed New Years Day was a day where every business was closed except the one Kagome worked at. She sighed, settled the kids at a table (they all put their heads on their arms and snoozed, and Sesshoumaru slept in Rin's jacket pocket), and set about learning how to work in a coffee shop from her new boss Miss Veronica. It turned out to be harder to learn than she would've thought as the day turned into one of charades.

As the day grew lighter out and the kids woke up, they found their gifts from Alex and quietly played with them. Shippou didn't paint, but he'd found a pencil in Kagome's backpack and drew in his new sketch pad. At the end of the day, Kagome wearily trudged back to the hotel with the kids. She'd never realized how much a language barrier could tire a person out so she took the tapes of "Learning the English Language" from Alex out and as the kids played with their gifts, Kagome made her best attempt at learning English.

The next two weeks went much the same, with Kagome making a concerted effort at learning English and taking the kids to work with her. She always figured she learned the best under a lot of stress, and the language barrier was very stressful for her. She thought the breakthrough for her really came in her third week in France. Miss Veronica had asked her to do something, and she'd actually known right away what she had to do.

She supposed she could've contributed that to the elaborate game of charades Miss Veronica had done but she liked to think she was getting smarter and more fluent at English. She was just glad Miss Veronica spoke English, because at least Kagome had a start at that language. It would be pretty difficult if she had to suddenly pick up French.

Kagome filled a bag with a pound of the specific coffee beans Miss Veronica had asked for and took it back to her temporary employer. _"Thank you, Kagome,"_ Miss Veronica said with a smile. _"I think your English is getting much better,"_ she said.

_"I have been practicing?"_ Kagome said, practically beaming happily.

_"Why don't you take a break for lunch with your kids?"_ Miss Veronica offered. _"It's been a busy morning. You deserve it."_

Kagome thanked her and went into the back corner of the coffee shop. That day, Shippou had set up his easel and was painting a picture of Souta and Rin sitting at the booth they had come to claim as their own since Kagome started working. "Are you guys hungry?" Kagome asked them.

"I am," both boys said instantly. Rin only nodded as she stuffed Sesshoumaru and the rather ragged new Ken-doll from Alex in her jacket pocket. Sesshoumaru had instantly decided he didn't like the figure, so he'd spit his acidic saliva on the doll and half of the torso melted. After that, Rin decided she actually liked the idea of destroying the gift so she cut off the doll's hair until it was nothing but disfigured stubble and started a game of "doll smash" with the boys (they really enjoyed playing that with her).

It was a good thing they hadn't seen Alex since New Year's eve…

"Alright. What do you want to eat?" She asked them.

"I'll have the same as yesterday, mama," Rin said.

"I'll have the same as Rin, mom," Shippou said.

Souta said, "I'd like a hamburger and fries, but this dumb coffee shop doesn't have them." Souta was probably the most discontent about the arrangements out of the three of them. After their mother and grandfather died in the earthquake, Souta had to leave his school and all his friends. And he still had a melted hole in his shoe due to Sesshoumaru's influence, so he was always collecting snow in the hole and his socks were getting wet. That probably didn't put him in a better mood to travel across the world, even if it was for his safety.

"Well…" Kagome started and she looked around helplessly for something to say to him. Outside the window, across the street, she saw a fast food restaurant. She told herself 'no'. She didn't have the money at the moment. Miss Veronica paid her cash for her work at the end of each day, but she wasn't making very much money in the end. "How about we eat there today?" Kagome asked, pointing to the restaurant. They wouldn't even eat Miss Veronica's food, if Kagome wasn't getting a fifty percent discount.

So much for telling herself 'no'. The kids were instantly agreeable to eat fast food. She knew she was going to regret that later on.

That evening after getting back to the hotel, Kagome listened as the kids played their little "destroy the doll from Alex" game and counted the money she had managed to save up so far. She really didn't have much. She'd been working odd jobs after her little trans-dimensional journey to make sure she had the money to take care of the kids, and her friend had paid for the port-keys for her, the kids, and Sesshoumaru.

Her money was dwindling down quickly and Souta really needed new shoes and it would definitely be nice if they could have a real meal instead of instant cereal or pizza delivery. She really longed for a nice spread of good home cooking. Perhaps she'd been spoiled, but after several years of coming home from long trips into another dimension and trekking at least fifty miles a day for several weeks, her mother always had a nice, hot meal for her.

She sighed for the millionth time and went to the mini refrigerator. She was met with an unfortunate surprise as she took out the half-gallon milk jug. "Alright, who drank the rest of the milk and didn't tell me we were out?" she demanded and the children's game stopped. Both boys looked at Rin.

"Why do you always have to do that, Rin?" Souta demanded in an accusatory voice.

Shippou's lip curled up, revealing his long, sharp canines. His transformation magic was wearing off again. "Geez, Rin! You could've told someone!"

Rin gasped in denial. "But it wasn't me! Honest, mama, I didn't drink it!" She looked pleadingly at Kagome, and Kagome sighed again.

These children would be the death of her. Her friend had offered to help her find a suitable home for the three, so that only Kagome and Sesshoumaru had to travel to England, but she had declined. Now she wondered if doing so had been a mistake. Would they have been happier with someone else to raise them? Was she doing them an injustice by dragging them all the way to the other side of the globe with her? She was the one who was in trouble, not them.

"It's alright," Kagome said finally, stalling the argument the children were about to get in to. "It doesn't really matter. We'll just go to the store and get some more. Get dressed."

They started to pack up their things in the travel pack, but she shook her head. "You can just leave it," she told them. "We'll just be quick, okay?"

"But if we run into someone," Souta started.

Kagome put her hand on her hip. "I'm a fully trained feudal era priestess, with magical powers and everything. I think we'll be fine if someone tries to mug us on our way down the street. Get your coats on." It wasn't entirely true… Kagome was trained in how to use her magic, but she wasn't fully trained in every aspect of it. Whenever Sesshoumaru was in a peaky mood, he might give her a bit of instruction, but that was rare. Kagome put her money back in the small purse and got herself ready to go.

As she got ready, Sesshoumaru flew over to her on his magical red cloud. "You really believe you will be fine if someone attacks?" he drawled, clearly not believing her certainty in herself.

Kagome glared at the golden eyed miniature. "I _am_ trained, Sesshoumaru," she said. "I couldn't have gotten as far as I have without some knowledge of spells."

"You and I both know that you are incapable of utilizing your power to the full potential if you have to worry about _them_." Sesshoumaru insisted.

She ignored him, but he had told the truth. She watched the kids as they walked down the street. Rin walked between Shippou and Souta, and Sesshoumaru was in her pocket again. She did know that she wasn't able to use her magic properly if she had to protect them. It wasn't that she couldn't, but it was more of a mental problem. Thousands of 'what if' questions would fill her head and she would hold herself back.

They made it to the grocery store with no trouble. As they were in the check out, Kagome saw Souta shifting uncomfortably. His foot was probably all wet already. His shoe might not have even been dry from earlier. At the check out, she asked the cashier, _"Do you know where any shoe stores are around here?"_

The cashier told her to head up the street. There was one on the corner. Kagome thanked the cashier, paid her bill, and directed the kids in the opposite direction from the hotel. They were surprised they weren't going right back. Souta was very happy when they entered the shoe store.

"Don't go wandering off," Kagome told the kids. "Souta, we'll get you some new shoes, but please check with me before setting your heart on a pair. I don't have a lot of money to spend on shoes unless you like sleeping in the snow." She smiled warmly at him, even though she wasn't joking.

It took an hour for Souta to find a pair of shoes. Shippou had to go half-sockless for a while so that Souta could have a dry sock to try on shoes. Rin and Shippou sat with their bag of groceries, both of them worrying that the milk would go bad. Kagome was sure it would be alright; it might have even frozen, what with the shoe store so cold.

Once Souta had his shoes, Kagome had him put his wet sock and old shoe back on. He could throw away his old shoes back at the hotel, and his socks could be washed. Shippou got his sock and shoe back on and Kagome paid their bill and they left. Nothing miraculous happened on their way back to the hotel that night.

They had cold cereal for supper again and Kagome got the kids to go to bed early. Sesshoumaru curled up next to Rin's head as he usually did (on the side of the bed away from Kagome) and Kagome was grateful to be able to sleep. Somewhere around midnight, the sound of sirens woke them all up. Rin squeaked in fear and clutched Kagome tight. Shippou and Souta sat up, both looking around.

Red and blue lights flashed in through the curtains. "What's going on, Kagome?" Souta asked, a hint of nervousness in his tone.

Sesshoumaru landed lightly on Kagome's shoulder. She felt his tiny hand grip her ear, though he didn't do it tightly enough to give her piercings with those sharp claws of his, thankfully. He mostly held on for the sake of balance with the jerky movements she made. She couldn't say she was graceful like he was.

"What are those lights?" Sesshoumaru asked her, his squeaky voice quiet in her ear. He wouldn't know what they were since he, Shippou, and Rin were from an alternate time dimension before electricity had been invented. Since Kagome had brought them to the here-and-now, they hadn't encountered any civil service vehicles.

"Probably a police car or something," Kagome said, hoping to ease Sesshoumaru's worries before he started gnawing on his arm. It wasn't that she thought he was really the type of dog who would gnaw on himself if he was stressed, but a friend of hers from high school had a dog who would chew on its paws when it became anxious, and Sesshoumaru only had one arm left. He would be armless if he chewed his arm off. "Rin, let me go, okay?" She peeled herself away from the girl.

Rin shook slightly and whimpered, but she did let Kagome go. Through the flashing lights, Kagome could tell that Shippou was just as unnerved as Rin. Souta looked worried, but fine otherwise. Kagome climbed out of the bed, feeling the biting cold of the hotel as they hit her bare legs. The comfort shorts and tee-shirt she wore to bed were comfortable under cover, but she was always cold as the covers were pushed back.

She stepped over to the curtain and lifted the slats, peering out into the dark night. Outside, two squad cars were parked in front of the hotel, flanking the open back end of an ambulance. It was snowing again, but the snow turned to slush the minute it hit the pavement. From the look of things, other people from the hotel had come out of their rooms and were watching what was going on. An unconscious man was being lifted by the paramedics onto a stretcher.

Nearby the unconscious man stood another man, identical to the one the paramedics were picking up. No one looked at the other man as if he weren't even there. As she and Sesshoumaru peered out, Kagome watched the other man closely. There was something wrong about the man, but for the life of her, she could not place it. He looked up and they met eyes briefly before he turned and preceded the paramedics into the ambulance.

Kagome pulled back from the window and shifted back over to the bed. "It looks like someone had an accident outside," Kagome said. "Nothing we need to worry about. That was an ambulance, come to take the person to the hospital for treatment."

Souta groaned, "Great. Up for nothing." He threw himself onto his pillow. Shippou settled down in the bed again, and Kagome worked at getting Rin to lay back down. It took several long minutes for Rin to lay down again, but finally she did and she went back to sleep.

Sesshoumaru said, "Your brow is furrowed. You are worried. Speak, woman."

Kagome looked at the prince with a frown on her face. His gold eyes glowed like fireflies in the dark. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep," she responded in turn. She spoke quietly, not really enjoying the idea that she might disturb the kids' sleep.

"The last time you told me not to worry, we were attacked by several men who were quite efficient at magic. Speak, woman, or I will be forced to take drastic measures." Sesshoumaru said.

Kagome sighed. He was right, but then again, he somehow always seemed to be. The last attack could have been avoided if she had told Sesshoumaru her concerns. "It's just that man's eyes… They were so… I don't know, _alone_ I guess…" she whispered. She wasn't sure why she bothered to tell Sesshoumaru. He'd probably scoff at her and tell her she was stupid for thinking about emotions.

He surprised her with his reply. "Which one?"

"The one standing next to the one who got hurt," she said. He probably didn't care. He was probably setting her up for another barbed insult. But if there was one thing he would do, it was ease her mind. He'd either tell her to stop being stupid, or he'd tell her what was wrong. Either way, she wouldn't have the 'what if' questions haunting her, and that was always a great thing.

"Perhaps I was the only one who noticed," Sesshoumaru drawled, "but there were many standing there."

"But there weren't a whole lot who looked exactly like the one who got hurt," Kagome insisted.

"You did not say that," Sesshoumaru said.

"Well, that's the one I was talking about," Kagome said. Sesshoumaru ambled up onto Rin's pillow, his leisurely walk suggesting how little he thought of her concerns. "Hey, you wanted to know," Kagome reminded him.

"Your concern has been heard and deemed as useless as you are," he told her carelessly. "I saw nothing, thereby informing me that _nothing_ was there."

She covered back up and ignored Sesshoumaru after that, even if he said nothing to her. She couldn't get back to sleep. Thoughts whirled around in her mind. Those lonely eyes haunted her mind and she remembered the spirit who had once been a little girl. Maia had died in a fire, and after death, her spirit had been vengeful toward her still-living younger brother. She'd sought to kill him because she couldn't bear that her mother had saved her brother and not her.

Kagome's friend couldn't see Maia, but Kagome could. Sesshoumaru couldn't see the man, but Kagome could. Had the spirit—if the man was indeed a spirit and not a hallucination—caused the man injury?

By the time Kagome had to get up for work, she was more exhausted than she'd been when she went to bed last night. She still got the kids up and made them get ready. That day while Kagome was working, Alex came to see her. She had hoped he'd forgotten about her, but it seemed he had not.

"Hello, Miss Higurashi," Alex said to her pleasantly. "How are things going?"

"Spectacular," Kagome chirped, and then winced internally at how fake she sounded. "Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Ah, I see… well, that's kind of why I'm here. The man picked up outside your hotel is a wizard." Kagome's stomach sank into the pit of her stomach, and she glanced at the booth where the kids sat eating their breakfast. She had quickly come to relate the term 'wizard' as 'trouble for her and her crew'. The definition wasn't too far off either.

"A wizard?" Kagome asked, hoping she didn't sound too anxious.

"Yes; and you're the only witch"—she was _not_ a witch… What gave him that idea anyway?—"currently residing in that hotel, so the ministry thought you might've…" he paused and then rephrased himself. "What I mean is, we thought he might've been coming to visit you. You're not in trouble or anything…" She let out a breath she should have realized she was holding. "He seems to have apparated wrong, because it looks like his leg has been spliced off."

"Apparated?" Kagome asked. "What is this apparated?"

"Teleporting oneself from one location to another," Alex explained. "I know you were on your way to London. This guy is English, so I thought you might know him."

Kagome couldn't exactly tell Alex about how she didn't know anyone from England, because then she would have to answer inquiries about why she was heading to England if she was awful at the language and knew no one. Instead, she settled for saying, "I did see him through the window, and did not recognize him."

"I see," said Alex. He smiled brightly at her (sparkly teeth gleaming) and said, "Well, thank you for your time. I'm sorry your night was disturbed."

His departure unfortunately did not take Kagome's worries. Instead, she had more. Was the man after her? She chose not to tell Sesshoumaru about what Alex had come for and hoped the feeling in her gut was only gas. She only had a week and a half left before she and the kids could take the port-key. Hopefully no one found her in the meantime.

By the time the fourth week had arrived, Kagome was nearly sick with worry. She jumped at simple noises, panicked every time she thought she saw a shadow move, and watched every stranger with a light in her eyes kin to paranoia. The kids quickly picked up on her frazzled nerves subconsciously and every day they would ask how long until they would go to London. She was nearly counting the minutes.

Sesshoumaru was the only one who was unconcerned. He kept telling her to stop being deluded.

"One week left," she kept assuring herself right after she would tell herself to stop jumping at shadows.

Alex surprised her again one afternoon by showing up at her work. He came with a few others, and one of those people was the lonely eyed man Sesshoumaru couldn't see. Alex and the three other men sat down at one of the flowery tables, presumably come to have lunch. Two of Alex's companions wore the hoods up on their black cloaks, while the lonely eyed man wore a green sweater, jeans, and no robe or cloak. Kagome had been about to break for lunch with the kids, but then she met eyes with that stranger and found herself asking Miss Veronica if she could wait on the table with Alex.

Seeing as how Alex had come to see Kagome the week before, Miss Veronica appeared to have the idea that Kagome and Alex were becoming involved. Even if that wasn't the truth (and couldn't be farther from it) Kagome did nothing at the moment to discourage the idea. If it got her to wait on Alex's table, she wasn't going to complain.

_"I don't see why not,"_ Miss Veronica said when Kagome asked. _"Your English has been improving, and if worse comes to worst, Mr. Lamour speaks your language."_

So Kagome thanked her temporary employer and headed over to the table. "Hello, Kagome," Alex greeted her in Japanese. He had dropped the formalities again, so she decided she would as well.

_"Hello, Alex,"_ she said in English. He appeared surprised, but not unpleasantly so. _"How are you this afternoon?"_

He beamed at her; she was nearly blinded by his pearly white teeth yet again. Again she tried to ask herself what it was about him that set her own teeth on edge. Was it the bright, perfectly white (had to be fake) teeth, or was there some other reason? She didn't think she was jealous that his teeth were so white they nearly glowed like 300-watt energy saver bulbs after they'd been on for an hour.

_"I'm doing wonderful. I hope nothing disturbed your sleep last night."_ Alex said. Kagome placed a menu in front of all four people, but the green-eyed man didn't touch his.

_"I had a peaceful night's rest last night,"_ Kagome lied. Well, she couldn't exactly say she wanted to blurt out that she spent the entire week tossing and turning and dealing with a major case of paranoia. She also couldn't say she came out of the bathroom after a midnight visit and screamed loud enough to wake the dead simply because Souta was standing there waiting for the bathroom and she hadn't expected it. She'd lectured Souta about it a few moments later, informing him (and the other newly awakened children) that if they had to go to the bathroom and someone else was clearly in there, _not_ to stand in front of the door.

_"That's good,"_ Alex told her. _"I'd like to introduce you to my partner, Marcos,"_ he waved at one of the cloaked figures. The man pulled his hood down, revealing a rather disturbingly handsome face. Marcos had blue eyes as deep and dark as Kagome's, though his seemed to hold more shadows, and he definitely had more lines extending from the corners of his eyes than Kagome. He was the larger of the two cloaked figures.

_"How do you do?"_ Marcos asked her, nodding toward her.

_"How do I do what?"_ Kagome asked, turning her eyes back on the green-eyed man. For some reason, Alex laughed. Kagome watched the green-eyed man as he turned his eyes away from hers and looked at Alex in—was it disgust? Disapproval? She couldn't really tell, but she could tell he didn't appear to like Alex any more than Rin did.

_"Oh, don't worry about it, Kagome."_ Alex told her. _"Do you remember the wizard I told you about? The one who was outside your hotel last week?"_ Kagome nodded and she could easily guess who the third person was. _"This is him. George Weasley. I thought maybe if you saw him up close, you might recognize him."_

_"I don't know her,"_ said George. He didn't pull his hood down. Kagome didn't need him to; the man next to him was identical to him. She knew that from the week before when she saw George getting lifted into the ambulance.

_"Aw, come on, George. Cheer up."_ Alex said in his optimistic voice.

_"Can I just go now?"_ George demanded.

Alex said, _"After you eat, I promise."_

Kagome thought that now would be a good time to ask for their orders. She had the answer she'd been curious of. The others at the table couldn't see the fourth person. Kagome wondered if it was someone who had once been alive, or if it was another part of the hooded figure who sounded so gloomy.

_"So, what can I get you to eat then?"_ Kagome asked.

_"I'll have the beef sandwich,"_ Marcos said.

_"I'll have the chicken and turkey wrap,"_ Alex said.

Kagome looked at the still-hooded George. _"And you, sir?"_ she asked him.

For a very long time, he said nothing. It was the fourth person who looked at her and asked, _"You can see me, can't you?"_

Kagome blinked and then looked at Alex and Marcos, assuring herself that they weren't watching her every move (it was that paranoia that had settled in) before nodding just slightly.

_"And you can hear me…"_ She wanted to drawl 'No, I can't hear you, that's why I'm not answering you,' but she managed to refrain from doing so. It wouldn't do her any good to let people know she was talking to invisible beings. Another slight nod was all she gave as an answer. _"Then can you make a sandwich with toasted bread, butter, lettuce, and crispy bacon on it? No tomatoes. He doesn't like them."_

She sighed. She wasn't getting away from this table without saying _something_ to the spirit. She glanced at George. He was clearly not interested in ordering. _"How about I see what I can do? I'm sure I can whip up a surprise." _Kagome offered, glancing at Alex.

_"That sounds like a good idea,"_ Alex said somewhat uncertainly. But Kagome had already written down the orders and departed for the kitchen.

When she got in there, Miss Veronica asked, _"How did it go?"_

Kagome said, _"I think it went really well. I'm just curious, but do Alex's teeth seem too white to you?"_ Miss Veronica laughed at Kagome's odd question but she gave her no answer. Kagome left the kitchen to check on her kids. She felt a little strange knowing the green-eyed man who no one but she could see watched her the entire way over. It was strangely _comforting_, knowing he was watching. She couldn't have explained the feeling if she wanted to.

For a few minutes, she was able to talk to her kids and find out what they wanted for lunch (the usual, the usual, and fast food). She was far too paranoid to take the kids for fast food even if she had the money, so she didn't give in to Souta's urge and made him order something from the coffee shop. She took the order back to Miss Veronica and by that time, the plates for Alex's table were ready. She took them out and handed them to their rightful owners.

_"Is there anything else I can get you? Something to drink, perhaps?"_ Kagome asked.

_"Hey, you forgot tomatoes on his BLT,"_ Marcos said.

_"No, I didn't," _Kagome told Marcos, forgetting that she wasn't supposed to have been aware of certain things. _"He doesn't like tomatoes."_ George looked up at Kagome so quickly his hood fell down, revealing a roguishly handsome face covered in fine red stubble and haunted green orbs. His left ear was missing, as if someone had cut it clean off, and his head of red hair hung down messily past his shoulders in a rather unkempt fashion. She quickly found she was wrong; he didn't look exactly like the other man; he was clean shaven, had both ears, and his hair was neatly cropped so it hung half down his neck.

_"I thought you didn't know him?"_ Alex asked, sounding more curious than anything.

_"I-I don't,"_ Kagome said rather nervously as her paranoia went onto another plane entirely. Oh, what had she done that for?

_"Just tell them 'Fred told you',"_ the fourth man suggested.

She took the advice, grasping it like it was the very last rung on a broken ladder hanging over a death drop. _"F-Fred told me. I'm sorry, excuse me."_ She quickly went back into the kitchen, feeling more than flustered as two pairs of green eyes watched her leave.

Miss Veronica noticed her unease immediately. _"What's the matter?"_ she asked.

There were plenty of things wrong. Kagome fell down a well with a spell cast on it that connected two different time periods and had a nice long jaunt into the past where she managed to do a spectacular number on a tiny magical jewel, breaking it into even tinier magical shards. After that, she was given the task of finding said broken shards after they decided to fly all over feudal Japan and/or get stuck in/be found by something, with a major emphasis on 'thing' most of the time as demons who generally liked to devour pretty girls like Kagome also liked to find pretty shards that could (if one collected enough of them) grant them any wish they so desired…

Not that Kagome could talk about that to Miss Veronica, because that led right in to the new-day problems she was having: after completing previously mentioned broken jewel and restoring it to its magical wholeness, she made a wish on the jewel that made her and Sesshoumaru—who, at the time, had been totally kick-ass and just obliterated an entire army of undead zombie minions with the sweep of one arm (he only had one arm to work with)—the living equivalent of the jewel, giving Kagome and Sesshoumaru the power to grant wishes just like the jewel had.

This meant that a lot of people wanted to get their hands on her and Sesshoumaru, because without one, the other cannot be used. That sort of was the whole purpose of her making the wish in the first place that made them both half of the jewel. That way, when one of them died, the power of the magical jewel would finally be absolutely useless! It was a fool-proof plan. Sesshoumaru was too stubborn to die, but he was also too arrogant to ever find someone willing to reproduce with him, and Kagome already knew three kids was too much, so a fourth would be disastrous. They could never pass down the power to grant wishes. It would die with them.

She could also not tell all that to Miss Veronica. And since she could not tell any of that to Miss Veronica, she basically had no excuse for her excess paranoia.

All she could say to her temporary employer was that she was feeling stressed out from work, and could she please work in the kitchen? Miss Veronica seemed to think she had a fight with Alex or something, because she said it was okay and Kagome took over. Working in the kitchen was better for Kagome; she could see her kids' table through the window no matter what angle she looked at it from, so she could easily keep an eye on them.

Miss Veronica took the kids their plates with a smile at them, though she didn't bother trying to talk to them. They couldn't speak English, and she couldn't speak Japanese; it wouldn't pay for her to attempt a conversation. When the kids got their plates, they thanked Miss Veronica happily, even though they knew she couldn't understand.

When the day had ended and Kagome got her day's earning from Miss Veronica, Kagome left with the kids. She kept thinking she was being followed, but it was a busy street so she couldn't pinpoint anyone who might be following her. She tried to tell her it was just her paranoia again, but she couldn't wrestle down the bad feeling.

Back at the hotel, she hurried the kids inside and quickly locked the door. "What's wrong, sis?" Souta asked her in a low whisper. Her heart felt like it would explode out of her chest. Was it smart to come back to the hotel, or should she have gone somewhere else until she lost the feeling of being followed?

"Quiet," Kagome whispered back as she heard strange thuds on the pavement coming down the sidewalk in front of all the hotel doors. She pushed the kids into the bathroom. "Get into the tub and huddle down as low as you can," Kagome told them.

Rin let go of Sesshoumaru and followed the other two as they did as they were told. At least they weren't arguing with her. The last encounter they had with wizards probably alerted the three that this trip was _not_ a game. If they were with her, they were in danger. Sesshoumaru caught himself before he crashed into the floor by summoning up his cloud of red magic.

Kagome closed the shower curtain. "Be quiet, and don't make any noise," Kagome told them.

Sesshoumaru followed Kagome as she moved into the main room and sidled along the wall toward the door and the window. Sesshoumaru landed on her shoulder again and gripped her ear lightly for a handhold. "You're being paranoid," he told her. "I can smell that disgusting human Alex out there; why are you acting this way?"

She couldn't answer because she wasn't sure why. Perhaps after traipsing about in another time dimension for a few years with a person who relied almost solely on gut instinct, that stupid trait had worn off on her. Sesshoumaru was different than her. Feelings were useless to him. He relied on knowledge and truth and what was visible to him. If he felt unease, he crushed it down because _he_ was fast enough to react instantly and make it look like he'd known all along what was about to happen.

"Shh," Kagome told the demon. She carefully lifted one of the slats on the curtain, peering out into the wintry-afternoon light. Sesshoumaru had told the truth. Alex was indeed outside, and with him was his 'partner' Marcos. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they appeared to be in a heated discussion. "Can you hear them?" she asked the sharp-eared demon.

"They are arguing over who should knock," Sesshoumaru said simply. "Just open the door and instruct them you do not wish for company. Send them away. It really is a simple solution."

Kagome would have glared at the demon, except her neck wouldn't turn like that. "Gut instinct is what kept your brother alive for almost six hundred years."

"And look what it got _him_," Sesshoumaru groused.

"Yes," Kagome hissed as quiet as she could, "why don't we look at that? Inuyasha is currently the big leader of an entire country of magical people… oh, and need I remind you… being Mr. Big used to be your job until a cheeky little human cast a spell on you that made you about as useful as a cockroach!"

He pinched his claws into her ear. She hissed and grabbed him around the waist with one hand, peeling his arm away less than carefully with the other. At the moment, she couldn't really care less if she broke the less-than-one-foot-tall demon.

"Stop it, Sesshoumaru," she hissed, dragging him in front of her face. "Or I'm going to shrink you even smaller than you are now! You'll make Thumbelina look like a freaking _giant_!" He had no idea who she was talking about but she really figured she shouldn't be surprised. "Are you going to behave?" she asked him. He actually scowled at her. She stuffed him into her coat pocket and zipped it shut. "Don't you _dare_ wreck my coat," she muttered, "or you'll be hopping on dust particles by midnight."

While she'd been arguing with Sesshoumaru, Alex and Marcos had finished their argument and Alex was knocking at the door. Kagome gulped and slid down to the floor beneath the window. She could hear Rin squeaking, and both boys trying to quietly shush the girl.

Kagome remembered how brave Rin had been in her own time; she could face up demons who wanted to eat her and spit in their faces as she shouted about how 'her prince Sesshoumaru' would save her. Since being brought to Kagome's time where everything was completely different from the time dimension she'd been born in, Rin seemed to lose her confidence in herself somewhat.

"Kagome?" Alex called. _Knock, knock, knock._ "Kagome, I know you're home." _Knock, knock, knock._

Why did he make her so uneasy? He'd shown her nothing but kindness and blinding teeth. He helped her get a temporary pass to stay in France until the next port-key, and he helped her get the job at the coffee shop. Souta and Shippou liked the guy. Rin hated Alex, but she hated nearly all humans irregardless to the fact that she was human herself. What was it about him that made her uncomfortable?

"I just had a few questions to ask you, Kagome," Alex called. "It's about the port-key. I'm sorry if we startled you earlier; we were on our way back to the coffee shop to see you when you came out, so we figured we'd meet up with you here instead. Please open the door."

Kagome heard a squeaky little voice coming from her pocket say 'told you so'. She patted the pocket roughly a few times. "Mom can we come out?" Shippou asked.

Kagome stood up and said, "No. Stay where you are. It doesn't take two people to ask questions." She left the chain lock on the door as she opened it and looked out. With a frown on her face, she asked, "No George Weasley? I thought he was with you earlier."

"He was," Alex admitted, his eyes landing on the chain lock with a suspicious light. "He left a few hours ago. Will you please let us in?"

"You don't need to come in to ask questions," Kagome told him. His eyes narrowed, so she quickly said, "The place is a lot messier than when you last came. Please don't ask to come in. I'm embarrassed just admitting the mess is there." That was about as far from the truth as it could possibly get. She made sure she had everything in their travel bag before they left in the morning, so even though the room was a mess by bedtime, it was always clean when they came back to it.

"Ah… but it is rather inconvenient to talk this way," Alex told her. "Perhaps if you come out here?"

She could see no way around it. "Okay, just hang on." She closed the door and took Sesshoumaru out of her pocket. He looked ruffled from all the rough treatment. "Watch them," she whispered and tossed him toward the bathroom. As usual, he caught himself on his cloud. He sent her a glare just before his cloud flew him into the bathroom. She set their travel bag just inside the bathroom and shut the door, then slid the chain lock off.

She pinched herself through the crease of the door and closed it behind her. _"What can I do for you?"_ she asked Alex in careful English. She felt cornered, pressed into the door, even though the men were two full steps away from her.

_"George told us, Kagome,"_ Alex said abruptly. _"He said you attacked him here."_

She hadn't been aware her stomach could possibly lodge itself further in her throat, but it had. She tried to swallow, but it was almost impossible. _"I did not attack anyone,"_ Kagome said. Her eyes narrowed at Alex. He was taking out the stick it seemed all wizards had to have in order to cast spells.

Sesshoumaru had commented on how useless wizards would be if they didn't have those sticks, but if she moved to take Alex's stick and even if she somehow got the thing away from him Marcos was still there and he already had his magic stick out. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place on this one (or a door and two wizards, but that was more technical).

_"See, that's the thing,"_ Alex began. _"I've been doing some sniffing around and I've heard some more than interesting things about you… Devri…"_ Kagome's hand shot to the doorknob, but Alex's hand came up. He aimed his stick at her. _"Ah, ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you."_ He told her.

She nearly groaned. Couldn't they just _skip_ the whole 'I'm about to go evil on you and this is why' monologue and get to the point where she and her kids started running for their lives? It really would save a lot of time. Oh, but of course that wouldn't be proper. Kagome rather thought her life could be a book with all the bad guy monologues she'd had to suffer through.

_"You, Devri, are a very interesting person."_ Alex told her.

Kagome couldn't help it. She rolled her eyes. _"You just said that."_

Alex's brow furrowed. _"No I didn't. I said I've heard interesting things about you, and then I said you are interesting."_

_"Its pretty much the same thing,"_ Kagome told him. _"So why don't we skip the woo-ahh part of your speech where you glorify all that I'm capable of doing for your nefarious schemes and get to the part where you tell me exactly how you're going to kidnap me, so that I can undermine your plans and escape your grasp with my kids and you can whine about how you should never have underestimated me."_

Alex looked at her in complete confusion. _"What are you talking about?"_ He asked.

_"You—oh never mind. Just finish your damn monologue then, so I can be on my merry way. What things have you heard about me?"_ Kagome demanded.

_"You really are a weird one," _Alex said, wrinkling his nose at her.

Kagome's eyes went wide and she found herself advancing on Alex in a sudden fury. Safety could wait for another moment. A lot of people were often afraid of her freakishly sudden mood swings. The slightest, most insignificant thing could set her off at times until people began to avoid her like the plague.

_"I'm weird?" _she said, watching in satisfaction as he actually backed up a step before he remembered he was attempting to be the one in charge. _"How am I the weird one? I'm not the one marching on a poor, helpless mother of three, accusing her of attacking some stranger, and then pulling out the pointy sticks in a threatening manner!"_

Alex frowned. _"Look, let's just get straight to the point."_

_"Well, that's a fine idea! Let me guess! You have some terrible wish you want granted, and I'm going to be the one granting it or else something very bad is going to happen! Am I right?"_

_"Yes, actually… that was to be the general idea. How did you know?"_

Oh, he wants to know how I know, Kagome's sour mind snapped. _"THE ANSWER IS NO!"_ Kagome shouted. She shoved Alex into Marcos and the two went down in a surprised tumble of legs and body parts. She dove for the apartment door and slammed the door shut, locking the padlock and hastily sliding the chain lock in place. As she rushed into the bathroom, a hole burst in the side of the hotel.

"So much for locks," Kagome groused in rather dry humor as she gathered the frightened Rin in her arms.

"What did you do?" Sesshoumaru demanded.

"It wasn't me!" Kagome snapped as Alex and Marcos entered the hotel room in their evil glory.

"What's going on, mom?" Shippou demanded.

Souta said, "Obviously Alex was a bad guy after all."

"I get that!" Shippou retorted. "But why! Why is he a bad guy?"

Kagome kicked the bathroom door shut. "You two are asking way too many questions at the moment! Sesshoumaru, any ideas, since you got us into this?"

Sesshoumaru glanced at her from his position sitting on the edge of the sink. "How is this my fault?"

"You made me answer the door!" Kagome huffed obviously.

"Oh, right… but I fail to see how it is my fault. You were stupid enough to do as I said." Oh, she did hate it when her words were turned back on her. She tried to think of a way to get them out of their current situation, but all she could think about was Sesshoumaru's words. If she had to worry about the kids, she wouldn't use her magic.

"You do realize you're in this mess too?" Kagome asked him.

_"Kagome, Kagome, the bird in the cage,"_ Alex said, singing the child's song Kagome used to jump-rope to. This time, instead of sounding like fun, the song seemed taunting, as if Alex were saying 'I'm going to _get_ you…'. _"When will you come out? In the evening of the dawn, the crane and turtle slipped. Who stands right behind you now?"_

_"I'd like to think that I stand behind you,"_ another voice said from the other side of the door. It wasn't Marcos or Alex speaking, since both immediately seemed to shout, 'Who are you?' Kagome wondered who it was. _"You know, it's amazing how fast you can sneak up on someone when they're bleating like a dying goat." _The person drawled before shouting a seemingly random word in English. There were two heavy thuds outside the bathroom door, and then the handle on the door turned and a scruffy red face poked inside. George Weasley's gloomy eyes held a tiny spark of life in them where they hadn't that morning.

_"Quickly now. They won't be out for long."_ George said.

_"Why are you helping us?"_ Kagome asked him suspiciously.

_"Because Fred didn't know you either," _George said. _"Hurry up! When they wake up, they'll probably run straight to the French ministry and tattle."_

Kagome watched as the man's clean-shaven look-alike walked through the wall. He smiled at her, and Kagome decided to tempt fate by going with the stranger and his unseen companion. "Come on, then," she told the kids. "Souta, go fetch the bag from the door. Shippou, go to the fridge and grab the food." The boys hurried to do as they were told.

Kagome stood up, bringing Rin with her and holding the small girl in her arms. Kagome was glad Rin was very small for her age. Rin wrapped her arms around Kagome's neck. She was so afraid she was shaking. "I told you he was a bad man," Rin whispered.

Kagome should have known the 'I told you so' was coming. Kagome walked out of the bathroom, picking her way over the two unconscious men. She wondered what George had done to them, but then decided she was probably better off not knowing. Souta was digging under the rubble that had once been a wall for their bag. If people weren't already gathering, they would be soon… Great, there she went, getting into more trouble.

Sesshoumaru flew out of the bathroom on his cloud and landed on the stranger's shoulder, hardly caring that he was supposed to be acting like a doll at the moment. She was conveniently ignoring the fact that if he had cared, he would've been left in the settling dust. "You, human trash," Sesshoumaru said, addressing George in his very imperious, prince-like tone of voice. "What connections do you have to these barbaric humans? Speak! This Sesshoumaru grows very impatient!"

George grabbed Sesshoumaru curiously and jostled him a bit. _"I've never seen a pixie like this before,"_ George said, _"what kind of pixie is this? Is it actually talking to me?"_

The kids had managed their tasks. Shippou and Souta were currently cramming the food in the pack none-to-gently (they would have squashed bread for dinner). Rin lifted her head off Kagome's shoulder to look at George and Sesshoumaru.

"Release me, lowly swine! This Sesshoumaru does not tolerate such treatment from one who is nothing more than dirt on my feet!" Sesshoumaru ordered squeakily.

_"Is this your pet?"_ George asked, still totally oblivious that Sesshoumaru was about to start hollering death threats. He shook Sesshoumaru a bit more. Sesshoumaru looked queasy.

_"Yes,"_ Kagome said, hoping to stem the questions. They really needed to get going. Souta had already shouldered their bag. _"Do you have some place we can go?"_

_"Not really, but this is Paris. We can figure things out when we get there." _He clunked out of the broken hotel room. Kagome followed with Rin, and the boys followed her obediently.

_"What do you mean 'when we get there'? Where are we going? Don't you have a plan?"_ Kagome demanded. Really, who jumps randomly into a situation without a plan? Other than her and half the people she knew, of course?

_"My only plan is to make it back home so I can off myself at the end of the month. Just hurry up! I'm walking with a cane and a peg leg; you should be able to keep up!" _Kagome glared at the man's back, feeling her temper rising up. She told herself not to lash out at him. It would be the lowest of all lows to lash out at a cripple.

Her mind supplied her with a new analogy to describe herself. She was like a magnet: always attracting the negative… How could this man talk so coolly of committing suicide?

* * *

Thanks, please review! I'm not sure if you noticed the patterns of the chapters... I hope you're liking the Kinky Story so far!


	7. The Rescue

**Title: Losing Rin**

Author: Tsubasa Kya

_Disclaimer__: Sadly, I must resort to wishing, on both parts._

Chapter 7

After apparating out of the muggle hospital in Japan, George woke up in a hospital in Paris. A magical hospital at that… He groaned. This was _so_ going to set his upcoming offing back. Probably by a couple weeks, even. He had no clue what week it even was, much less what day. He might even already be late for all he knew…

He glanced around the sanitary hospital room, wondering where his wand was. It certainly wasn't anywhere he could see, and was probably not anywhere within reach. Medi-witches and –wizards were generally good at keeping magic channeling utensils away from patients… at least the smart ones anyway.

He was barely awake more than five minutes when a young, spritely looking French medi-wizard came practically bouncing in. George wondered where the sanity went in the world but then threw the thought out the window. Fred would have laughed at him and said the world hadn't lost its sanity; it was finally gaining it.

The medi-wizard jabbered away in French; George understood none of it. He wondered how long he would be delayed in France. Fred had wanted to expand to France; imagine how much good it would do those Beaubaxton girls to have a prank or two—they'd be a little less stuck up… a little less uptight…

George didn't have a clue _what_ the hell the medi-wizard did… to George, it looked more like pretending to do something with nothing while jabbering away in gibberish, but that was neither here-nor-there.

Then, the medi-wizard was gone (thank any god who cared).

With him gone, George took inventory of his state of being. Well, his leg was still gone from the knee down. That sucked, but there was nothing he could do about that. Not that it would matter in…whenever… what day was it? That was bothering him…

What _else_ was wrong with him? Well, he was _still_ missing an ear—no surprise there—but he seemed to be in tip-top shape otherwise. Perfect. Now all he needed were his clothes and he could be on his way. The broken leg, obviously, was healed by the lovely French.

He stood out of the bed, and man, was that annoying to stand on only one leg. For one, it was really hard to balance. For two, well, he only had one leg…

"Hello!"

George rolled his eyes as a man with extremely sparkly teeth (was it legal to have teeth so shiny?) pranced into the room. He shot a winning smile at George and said, "Hello, Mr. England!"

George already didn't like the guy. "You French and your outrageous accents…"

He didn't seem to miss a beat. "I'm Alexandre Lamour; I work for the French Ministry. You apparated quite illegally into our country. There are laws on apparating, you know… to avoid things like, oh, illegal immigration for one."

"Fantastic. Give me my wand and I'll leave," George said.

"About that… we still have things to clear up. Like, what you're doing in France and all."

"Just passing through." George said.

And it just so happened that Alexandre Lamour who worked for the French Ministry was not the kind to be easily deterred. George still had to go to the damn ministry building… be delayed for like _ever_…

Finally when Alexandre Lamour and his auror partner Marcos something-or-other deemed George fit for the natural world (ha, fit!), they offered to take him to lunch. George simply asked if he could get out of it, but then of course they wouldn't let him, would they?

"I don't want to eat with you," George said.

"What a shame!" Alexandre Lamour chirped and clapped him on the back. George, standing on a peg leg with a cane, nearly toppled over. Arsehole. And George meant that, with every ounce of his being.

Alexandre Lamour and Marcos took George to some tiny little sandwich shop of some sort. He had a week left to get away from this freakishly sparkly guy (those teeth could be the cause of a three-broom pile-up somewhere…).

He was plotting how to get away from Alexandre Lamour—not honestly paying attention to what was happening around him, or even what he was saying to whom for that matter—when he suddenly heard, "F-Fred told me." His head snapped up and he looked at the woman who had spoken.

Whatever else was said, he had no idea. Time seemed to freeze as he stared at her. She was pretty. Fred would have certainly liked the look of her, but then, Fred always did like the same thing George did in a woman.

Her face, heart shaped framed by two locks of raven colored hair, was filled with apprehension and fear. Almond shaped eyes, dark as midnight blue sky were opened as wide as they could go. Pink lips smacked together as she spoke—he couldn't have repeated what she said if he wanted to… and then she was gone, rushing away from him. Fred told her… what did Fred tell her? How did she know Fred? Fred didn't know her. George would have known…

He was cold… so cold it hurt. This young woman who Fred did _not_ know, for how could he have known the woman?? Where would they have met? Fred and George did everything together… They did so much together, they may as well simply have been one person with a split personality. A split personality of identical nature…

_I have to know…_ He thought.

Finally, the idiot Alexandre Lamour left him alone and let George go. Alexandre Lamour told him, "Go back to England. Where you belong."

George said he would, but… instead he parted ways with Alexandre Lamour and hid in the fast food restaurant across the street, watching for the woman to come out. When she did, she looked frightened and had three children with her; two young boys and a young girl. She hurried the children along and just as George was about to follow her, he saw Alexandre Lamour and his partner—_whoever_ the man was—hurrying after the woman… clearly going after her. There were enough people between her and them that she didn't appear to see them.

So, apparently the French Ministry had an interest in her? Or something of the sort…

Well, that was just too bad… Because whatever the ministry wanted with her… they weren't going to get it until after George got his answers. She knew Fred somehow… but Fred didn't know her. Of that, George was certain.

He followed behind Alexandre Lamour and his partner, and then hid as close by as he could manage so he could listen in without being noticed. Alexandre Lamour called out to a door in another language, and received a response in that same language presumably. The responder was female. Presumably the woman who knew—or apparently knew—Fred. Man, it was harder to think about offing himself than it was earlier that day… Knowing there was such a person out there… someone that maybe, just maybe, knew Fred… Damn it.

He had a week to figure things out. A week to get back to The Burrow. A week to solve this mystery. Which wouldn't be a problem, except that Alexandre Lamour and his partner-guy looked quite not-friendly at the moment toward a closed door.

Which… on the whole… was not exactly conducive toward that little thing called "getting answers". And then, wow… Sparkles and his Spanish dog—yes, yes, George was being quite prejudiced against the potential evil-doer, and also, Sparkles was a nicer name than "Dimples" wasn't it?—were all full of smiles as the door opened and the little nervous woman came out. Or the "nervous little woman" rather, because she didn't seem "little nervous". She seemed more like "a lot nervous".

Why he was even having such random thoughts was beyond his figuring.

She squeezed through the door, keeping it as close to being closed as possible, and then shut it behind her. "What can I do for you?" she asked Sparkles, speaking a bit slow and her accent showing heavily.

"George told us, Kagome," that came from Sparkles, although what George had said to Sparkles was beyond his memory. He couldn't even recall what he ate for lunch at that tiny shop; he was due for an offing in a week, so he wasn't even sure it mattered. "He said you attacked him here."

"What?" George whispered to himself, trying to recall when the little woman attacked him. More over, he was _really_ struggling to recall exactly _how_ the little woman could even be considered to have a chance to overpower him. Well, maybe it might not be so hard now that he was walking with a cane and a peg leg but…wait, no, that still didn't make sense. The woman was this tiny little Asian girl with three children; definitely not a match for a man ready to off himself! He had nothing to lose, so therefore would not flinch. She'd have that moment of hesitation…

He forced his attention back to the conversation over there…

"—am I the weird one? I'm not the one marching on a poor, helpless mother of three," it was kind of amusing, watching the little Asian woman start to frighten Sparkles into backing up a bit the closer she got to him, "accusing her of attacking some stranger, and then pulling out the pointy sticks in a threatening manner!"

So, wait… She didn't attack George? If she had, he surely would have recalled such an incident. But then, there's also the fact that she was saying it was an 'accusation' which obviously meant that it wasn't _true._ Of course, then _again_, Fred and George had often been _accused_ of doing things that were _quite true_, and yet those things to that day still remained only accusations because there was no real proof to back it up. And there were a few blocks missing in George's memory—such as his time between the Japan hospital and the French hospital—in which the tiny woman could have done some sort of attacking jobby, but then obliviated his memory and therefore he wouldn't recall it…

Oh bloody hell… he was really going to need some sort of headache potion after all this highly serious thinking he was doing. Serious thinking was so uncharacteristic of him. It was supposed to be George's job to delegate all serious thinking to his twin, who would then delegate it to George (meaning it usually never got done?) so he wasn't certain why he was bothering with it now.

The little woman caught his attention again when she screamed, "THE ANSWER IS NO!!" And wow, George watched her push Sparkles into the Spanish Dog (lessons on being prejudiced against evil guys were NOT required at Hogwarts before 7th year, which he conveniently quit), and what a tumble of legs and limbs the two made.

Of course, that didn't last long. Sparkles blew a hole in the wall (why not use the door? Ah, that was why… the door was gone with half the wall).

George went after Sparkles and his little doggy. He heard taunting. Some kind of silly rhyme, which included what was presumably the woman's name… Kagome… It was kind of pretty, in a "I like weird names" sort of way. "Kagome, Kagome, the bird in the cage…" Hey, George knew that sort of tune! It was like a death eater calling out to a hiding child they planned on murdering!! 'I'm going to get you, I'm going to get you, and there's nothing you can do about it!!' Bad guys were so… _unoriginal…_ "When will you come out? In the evening of the dawn, the crane and turtle slipped." Okay, what the bloody hell? The 'evening of the dawn'? And that meant _what_ exactly? It certainly didn't mean anything logical… And what were the crane and turtle doing that they slipped?

"Who stands right behind you now?" Sparkles might not have been done, but George was done listening to the ridiculous taunting of a wanna-be death eater.

"I'd like to think that I stand behind you," George responded.

Sparkles and his dog yipped like hyperactive ankle biters and asked, "Who _are_ you?"

George rolled his eyes and pulled his hood down. "You know, its amazing how fast you can sneak up on someone when they're bleating like a dying goat." And then he aimed his wand and said, "EXPELLIARMUS!" The spell got both of them; wands flew away from their owners, and the owners themselves hit their heads on the wall. Yay for walls. They had a grudge against evil wall-breakers.

George opened the bathroom door and poked his head in. "Quickly now. They won't be out for long." He said.

The pretty, and _very nervous_, little woman asked suspiciously, "Why are you helping us?"

"Because Fred didn't know you either. Hurry up!" he replied, "When they wake up, they'll probably run straight to the French ministry and tattle."

He let them out and glanced down at the unconscious bodies for a moment as the two boys rushed around the room doing whatever it was they were ordered to do in that funny language they spoke. After a moment, there was a floating pixie thingy squeaking at George.

George grabbed it by the waist and shook it (which seemed to make it very irritable—not that he cared). "I've never seen a pixie like this before. What kind of pixie is this? Is it actually talking to me?" he asked. "Is this your pet?" The thing was still squeaking at him. He shook it a bit more, and then wondered—by its expression—whether it would throw up.

"Yes… Do you have some place we can go?" The little woman asked, adjusting the young girl in her arms.

He shrugged, "Not really, but this is Paris. We can figure things out when we get there." He promised her. She followed; he expected she would.

"What do you mean 'when we get there'? Where are we going? Don't you have a plan?" she complained. Sheesh, it was like she expected him to have a plan for everything he did up until his planned death a week from that moment…

"My only plan is to make it back home so I can off myself at the end of the month. Just hurry up! I'm walking with a cane and a peg leg; you should be able to keep up!"

Honestly, he had no idea where he was going to go. Especially with a random Asian woman and her three Asian children… He turned his head as she urged her children after him, getting a bit of a look at her. She did _so_ not look old enough to have kids that big. How old was she anyway? And how in the bloody hell did she push them out?

He winced, very grateful he was not born a woman. That must have been painful, _very_ painful indeed.

**THANKS FOR READING! Please leave some thoughts...**


	8. Shared Animosity

**Title: Losing Rin**

Author: Tsubasa Kya

_Disclaimer__: I make no profit off this work. If I did, you would not be reading it here.  
_

Chapter 8

Harry Potter. Savior of the Wizarding World. The Greatest Baby Ever Born. The Chosen One. The Prophet. The Child God. The _God Child_.

Draco could stare colder at the man if he wanted to. He really could. He leaned back in his desk chair, watching as Potter stormed around their shared office space, knocking over this thing or that, huffing and hissing and raging over whatever had set him off.

Crossing one leg over the other, Draco folded his hands on his stomach and waited for what he knew would come; The Accusation. It was right on schedule. Exactly six minutes and thirty-two seconds later (Draco once made a game of timing each of "The Accusations" and found with some surprise that Potter had consistently made "the Accusation" always six minutes and thirty-two seconds after he stormed into the office) Potter whirled on Draco with angry eyes.

"You've gone too far, Malfoy! Give it back to me!" Bang on cue.

Draco had long ago learned not to give in and argue, because it generally ended in a duel, a ruined office, and a hospital trip in either of their cases. There was even a betting pool around the office when their arguments escalated on which of them would end up hospitalized. While one of them was hospitalized, the other generally ended up on temporary suspension, although Potter got suspension with pay since he had an "in" with the department head (Bloody Gryffindors!), and Draco did not. Draco couldn't afford that time off he would get while suspended. It would mean he'd have to be home more often. With his wife. Damn.

"Malfoy!" Potter hissed.

"Bloody _hell_, Potter," Draco said, "how often have you accused me of stealing from you, and how often are you proved—thoroughly—that I didn't touch whatever you think I have taken?"

Potter seemed to think about this and by the annoyance that burned in his eyes, he seemed to realize Draco was right. Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd held at avoiding the potential for spending more time at home. Yes, he loved his son Scorpius, but if not seeing his son often meant he didn't see his wife or his mother often, well… he'd take the hit.

As Potter went back to scouring the room, Draco decided it would probably be beneficial to go home. He hadn't been home for almost three days; he slept at his desk.

Getting to his feet, Draco began collecting together a handful of paperwork he could use as an excuse later to steal himself away into his study. Basically, if the papers _looked_ important, it went into his briefcase—provided they didn't contain classified information, of course. It really wouldn't do to give Weasley another reason to sack him.

"Where're _you_ going?" Potter demanded. Draco had the sudden curious thought of, _Have I learned Parseltongue?_ It certainly _seemed_ possible, with the amount of hissing Potter was doing that evening.

"Would it matter if I told you or not?" Draco asked, "You'll still scamper after me like I'm out plotting to be the next Dark Lord."

"For the _last_ time! I wasn't following you!"

"No, you just _happened_ to rather _coincidentally_ show up in the same place I did _ten_ times in _one_ day. Ten to one odds are fairly condemning, Potter." Draco snapped. Okay, so he was just a little irritated.

The situation was simple. Four days prior, Weasley _ordered_ Draco to take a day's vacation (Draco was thoroughly opposed to this idea but in a boss-versus-minion standpoint, the opposition was moot). During Draco's twenty-four hour forced vacation, Draco went home and got his son Scorpius. They went to _Dur Waffle Haus_, a German waffle house. That was shortly after six in the morning. Sure, he was aware that waking a four-year-old up at quarter-to-six in the morning was not generally done. It simply wasn't _done_.

But Draco did a lot of things that just _weren't_ done. Scorpius was a good boy provided he wasn't anywhere near his mother… He'd been an _angel_ all day. When Potter showed up at the waffle house, Scorpius had ever-so-casually dropped a glop of butter on the floor. Potter was _furious_ when he ended up on his back beside their booth. Draco knew what happened (and praised his son when out of earshot of Potter) but pretended he didn't and just kept reading the morning paper.

Then, later that day Potter shows up when Draco was in Madam Malkin's purchasing robes for Scorpius. That was a pure disaster although his son was _not_ at fault for what occurred. If Potter hadn't tripped, then that stand of mirrors wouldn't have been broken.

Potter showed up when Draco was in the pet shop looking at the 'Strange and Unusual' creatures with Scorpius (they bought a magic scorpion, but Scorpius seemed to get it in his head that the creature wanted to play fetch with Draco's wedding ring—coincidentally, that was also how he lost his wedding ring though he didn't recall giving Scorpius the ring, or when this occurred).

The day continued, with Potter showing up everywhere Draco did. When confronted after the sixth occurrence, Potter claimed, "I'm just running errands."

When it happened for the _seventh_ time, Potter had rolled his eyes in disgust and said, "Maybe it's fate." He'd turned away and Draco swore he heard the muttered words, "She does _love_ to pull my strings, doesn't she?"

After the eighth time at a diner, Draco called it quits and went home. He was there for—maybe—an hour before he had to leave or risk hexing his mother's lips right off her face. Granted, that _would_ have been nice… He just couldn't afford New Azkaban.

He'd left the house and gone to the Three Broomsticks. That was, of course, the nice thing about living in Hogsmeade; the Three Broomsticks was always warm, cozy, and full of firewhiskey.

He was there no longer than it took to order one drink before who should walk into the place but Harry—Effing—Potter! Draco was _pissed_. Three stools down the bar. Potter sat there, ordered a Bloody Butterbeer like he was on a stakeout! Well, Draco wasn't about to stand for it, so he drowned miserably in several mugs of firewhiskey strong enough to eat through the mug itself, and when he was stone drunk and Madam Rosemerta wouldn't serve him anymore and took his wand—they were like muggle keys—(it happened every Tuesday—both he and the Madam were used to the routine) he decided he was going to tell off Ronald Weasley for forcing him into vacation.

So, Draco stormed off to Weasley's house. The problem? It was a simple task of figuring out left and right, which Draco could _not_ do whilst drunk off his ass. He wandered the village looking for Weasley's house, sure it was _somewhere_ in the vicinity…

Eventually he managed to find his house and he knew Weasley lived to the left of him, and Potter was on the right. He was sandwiched between Gryffindors, and lived with the Europe's Most Annoying Witches; now if that wasn't the pits, he didn't know what was.

So he stormed up to Weasley's place, and _who_ should answer the door but the Bleeding Savior! So, what, did Potty suddenly know him enough to know where he was going to be at all times? Oh that just pissed him off! That somehow Potter knew he was going to be going to Weasley's…

"Condemning?" Potter hissed, his eyes flashing like a snake's just before the strike. "I _always_ eat breakfast at _Dur Waffle Haus_ with the boys before I take them to Mrs. Weasley's."

"Yeah? What about the _rest_ of the day?"

"I was doing my job!"

"Uh huh. Right." Draco was not convinced.

"I. Was. Doing. My. Job!"

"That so? Prove it."

"Madam Malkin's had a break-in, I was following up. After that, the ministry received intel on a stolen pet of an important Egyptian priest who had been in England. The Egyptian priest had a fondness for scorpions; I'm sure you'll recall the incredibly dangerous magical creature you bought in the pet shop? Yeah, that was pawned off. Bloody hell, Malfoy, you bought your _son_ a deadly scorpion! Isn't he only three?" Potter shouted, his hands moving wildly to demonstrate his points.

"He's four!" Draco found his hackles rising. "And how was I supposed to know the thing was that bloody dangerous?"

"You should've recognized it! The memo went out to the entire office to be on the lookout for the thing, and the photo showed very distinctive markings!"

"So you had a reason to be in the pet shop. Big deal. That doesn't cut you off the rest of the day! You were still following me as if I was up to something!"

"You had just bought the priest's scorpion, and it was _my_ job to get it back, but when I caught up to you a half an hour later, you didn't have the scorpion and I got wind of something more pressing: a man was found dead in an alleyway."

Potter was going to get hexed, Draco swore it. "Oh, and you're just assuming I did it? Newsflash, I was with Scorpius all day! He's a handful; I didn't have time for any dastardly deeds, alright?"

"I never said that!" Potter yelled. If anyone in the ministry didn't know they were fighting before, they knew now. "That scorpion you bought was toxic, and it stung a man."

"Bloody hell, and you're blaming me? Blame the fucking thief that stole it and sold it to the pet shop, damn it!"

Potter was slightly taken aback by that, and he winced and explained, "Well, as it turned out, the man who died was the thief." He shook himself and continued, "But that's not my point! I wasn't following you; I just ended up running left and right trying to figure out why the man was dead and after that I had to catch the scorpion before it could do anyone else harm!"

"What about at the diner? You sure didn't look like you were chasing after a scorpion _there_."

"I'm sorry if after a long day of hell I might want to go get some food at the closest establishment! For the love of Merlin, I _wasn't_ following you!"

"Then how the hell do you explain the Three Broomsticks? You just happen to show up there, I don't think so!"

"I was on a stake-out watching Morris Pen, after Lee Jordan informed me someone was stealing from the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and selling the products black market."

"GUYS!" Ronald Weasley's shout practically shattered the faux window. Both men turned to Weasley with equally disgruntled expressions on their faces. "Minister Shacklebolt wants to see you. _Now_. Both of you."

Draco stormed past Ron, feeling as if he had a dark storm cloud hovering over his head. He watched in satisfaction as other Aurors—even the older, more experienced ones—shifted out of the way. He made it to the elevator and started slamming his finger against the lift call button.

As Potter reached him, he said, "Once is enough. It won't come any faster!"

Draco really couldn't help himself; he turned around and swung his arm, knocking Potter in the chin hard enough to crack his lip. Potter then wasted no time to tackle Draco and soon enough they were rolling on the floor trying to beat each other senseless.

Aurors came from all over the room, pulling the two apart, taking their wands, and at last peace and order was restored. Not that they had been trying to use their wands… but they were still removed.

Ding. The lift had arrived…

"You want to talk about _following_, how about you tell me why the fuck you'd show up at my house piss-drunk?"

"God damn it, Harry! Every time you two fight, I get my arse chewed!" Weasley snapped. "Go the fuck home, both of you! Dean, Seamus, go see the minister and let him know you're taking Harry and Malfoy's place on assignment."

Draco was very angry at the moment, and really wanted to hex something, but since that always got him in trouble he had to resort to simply yanking himself free of captivity, snatching his wand back, and stepping onto the lift. His eyes met Potter's in a terrible clash of blue and green, and then the lift doors had closed.

When he got home, he was met with a maddening surprise. His good friend Blaise Zabini was banging his wife senseless against the kitchen counter. Pansy didn't even notice she'd been caught in her infidelity. Draco made a bee-line for his son's room, finding the boy hiding in a corner with his hands over his ears, crying and trying to block out the noises of the screams from the kitchen.

Gathering Scorpius in his arms, Draco sat on the tiny toddler bed to comfort his son. He wasn't as mad as he could be, he supposed. This simply gave him the nerve to do what he'd wanted to for years. He had Scorpius, who he _wanted_, and could find reason to get rid of Pansy who he _didn't_ want. And while he was at it, he was just going to get rid of his mother too.

He brushed Scorpius's black locks out of his face. He didn't care that Scorpius had the same color hair as Pansy—it didn't mean he saw Pansy every time he saw his son. Apart from the hair, Scorpius was a miniature Draco; he had the high cheekbones, the strong, angled chin, the sharp nose, and most importantly he had Draco's glacier blue eyes.

As he rubbed Scorpius's back, his son cried, "Owie, daddy!"

Curious why such a small action would hurt, Draco shifted Scorpius in his arms and started to lift the back of Scorpius's shirt. The boy reacted badly and kicked and struggled to get away. "Daddy not seeing!" Draco was so surprised he let his son run across the room and hide in the closet.

The behavior was like nothing Draco had ever seen in his son and it both scared and angered him. Draco shifted across the room and knelt down to look at his son in the back of the closet. Scorpius had a nest built in there of at least a dozen pillows and sheets. So that's where all of his linens were disappearing… He thought the maid was stealing them. Well, maybe he should apologize for firing her...

Draco couldn't help but feel impressed in spite of himself. Scorpius had quite the neat little fort going on in the back of his giant closet. "Scorpius, please let daddy see… if you have an owie, daddy can fix it…"

"Daddy not love me." Scorpius said miserably, his words punctuated with sobs that tore at Draco's insides. "Mummy said so."

"Mummy's a lying, cheating whore," Draco forced his voice to stay even. He would not take his temper out on his son—_ever_. "Mummy's going to go _far_ away, and from now on, it'll just be daddy and Scorpius."

Scorpius poked a hopeful head out of his fort. "Just daddy and me?" Draco nodded and watched his pride and joy crawl out. Scorpius wrapped his arms around Draco's neck. "Ice cream," he demanded, and Draco smiled, lifting the boy up.

"Ice cream," he agreed indulgently. "And you know, I think Madame Rosemerta has Butterbeer Floats for good boys, and _you_ are a good boy." He was spoiling his son, but he hardly cared. Especially now. Scorpius deserved to be spoiled. He felt some of his tension lift as his boy giggled, but he'd have to find out what sores were on Scorpius's back later on…

They left the house out the back door because Draco didn't want to walk by the kitchen door with Pansy and Blaise still quite loudly going at each other.

Hermione Weasley-Granger (bloody mudblood) was outside her house with her daughter Fredella and Potter's three kids; she was eight-and-a-half months pregnant now, if he remembered her due-date right (Weasley had been bragging at the office some time ago). Fredella saw Scorpius and shrieked at the top of her lungs. "Skorpus!"

"Freddie!" Scorpius cried out and wiggled out of Draco's arms. Scorpius ran straight into the Weasley's backyard, greeting Harry's children with a certain amount of familiarity that Draco just wasn't sure he was comfortable with. Still, he allowed it and crossed the invisible boundary between their yards.

"What's so hard about the name, 'Scorpius'?" Draco demanded of the mudblood, standing next to her picnic table.

Granger grinned at him. "She's four, Malfoy. She's going to mess things up." She called out, "Teddy, not so close to the grill!"

"Aww, but Auntie, I want to roast my marshmallows!" the boy complained.

"You can do that just as well from a distance. That's why you have _sticks_." Granger said unrelentingly.

Draco's eyes were pinned on his son. "Mind if I sit?" he asked Granger. He could get along with people when it served a purpose to him… And it always served a purpose with this woman. If he wasn't reasonably companionable, Weasley found a reason to suspend Draco from work.

"Sure." She said, "Be my guest." She twirled her wand and a glass appeared on the table, full of yellow liquid. "Lemonade?"

"No, thank you. Have you heard anything… odd… going on at my house lately?" He asked her. He supposed out of all his neighbors, he could get on with Granger the best, in spite of her… blood. She, at least, was an intelligent sort of conversation.

"No, why?"

"Oh, uh, no reason." Draco wasn't about to admit to his neighboring Gryffindor that someone had been hurting his son. She'd probably think it was him, accuse him of it immediately, and get his son taken away from him even as she got Draco put into lock up in New Azkaban.

"Aren't you usually at work now?" Hermione asked, glancing at him in curiosity.

Draco nodded. "I'm on FTO," he told her.

"FTO? What's that?"

"Forced time off," Draco said. "Because Potter threw a temper tantrum." He got to his feet as Hermione's jaw dropped, and her brows knit together. She was about to object to her friend throwing a tantrum, but Draco interrupted her, calling out to his son. "Scorpius," he said, "come."

Draco watched his son scamper toward him, but only seconds later he was distracted by the fact that Ronald Weasley was back from work early.

"Good. Just the person I need to talk to." Ron grumbled.

Draco's first thought was, "I didn't do whatever you're going to accuse me of doing. I went from the ministry to my front door step to my son's room and I've been right here for the past—"

Ron rolled his eyes at Draco. "I'm not here to accuse you of anything. I'm here to tell you that Minister Shacklebolt and I decided you can either take time off for two weeks voluntarily, or you can clear out your office and find another job."

Draco pursed his lips. "Excuse me?"

"Here's two tickets to travel using the International Port Key. Find a baby sitter for Scorpius and take your wife to France for the time, or something. We're getting sick of you constantly starting things with Harry. You two need to put aside the school boy rivalry and start _working_ together, rather than arguing." Ron said, holding out an envelope to Draco.

"We do work together." Draco argued, but he scowled and took the envelope when he noticed the light in Ron's eyes was one of 'your job is on the line here'. Draco scooped up his son. "Fine. I'll go. But I won't go with Pansy." He'd take his son instead, and he could use that time to think about what to do about Pansy.

…Framing her for something and getting her arrested sounded like a fantastic idea at the moment…

"However you do it," Ron said, "you'd best take that port key tomorrow. And if you're back before two weeks, well… don't bother coming in to work. The port keys are being monitored, Malfoy."

"You're doing an awful lot to keep me out of the country. Planning a surprise party?" Draco lifted a brow, but then he turned away. He didn't particularly care if Ron was done with him now or not, because he was really annoyed and he just wanted to get away from the other guy. How dare they force him on vacation? He didn't want to go…

Draco took his son to the Three Broomsticks for Butterbeer Floats and sandwiches. After that he took his son home, gave him a bath, and found out just how bad his son's back was. It was no wonder his son had cried when he touched his back. Some of the welts were actually broken skin, and they looked red and infected. It was just as well that Pansy wasn't at home. He might have killed her. Especially listening to his most precious boy crying and screaming just at having the injuries washed…

He called on the Malfoy family medi-wizard, ordering the old goat out of bed and to his house. When the man arrived and inspected the injuries on his boy, he confirmed they were infected. He had to sit there, clenching his fists as his child screamed over the treatment process. Draco knew it wasn't pleasant having had to sit through such a treatment dozens of times his own self.

With an antibiotic cream smeared over Scorpius's back, the boy even cried in his sleep when he finally managed to nod off. He heard Pansy return late, and he could tell she was drunk by the noises and stumbling she was making. As she walked by Scorpius's room and heard him crying, she stormed in.

"You fucking brat, stop making that no—"

She noticed Draco sitting in a plush chair beside his son's toddler bed and trailed off.

Draco felt his gut roiling with hatred and anger. He twirled his wand in his fingers, and watched as her eyes drew to the movement of his wand, filling with fear. Oh, good, she remembered what his temper had been like in Hogwart's, down in Slytherin house.

"Hello. Pansy." He said in a low voice.

"Draco!" she looked uneasy and was probably trying to sober herself up in a hurry. "What are you doing here?" she was still being very loud. Scorpius was stirring.

"I decided to go on vacation to France." He said. There was no reason at all to insinuate that he was being forced on the vacation. Her eyes lit up at the idea of going to France. But he had no qualms shooting her down. "I came home to _your_ infidelity. On _my_ kitchen counter. With _my_ best friend."

"Draco, what are you saying? You must have been dreaming." She insisted.

"Was I dreaming when I found my son had been abused?" he inquired, lifting himself out of the chair.

"You were! You were!" she agreed.

"Then what are these injuries?" he pointed to the little boy in the bed. Scorpius was on his stomach, his back uncovered. Draco had to sit beside the child to keep him on his stomach so that the cream wouldn't rub off.

"Well, if he weren't such a god-damn brat, he wouldn't need to be punished," she snapped at last.

"A brat?_ Punished?"_ Draco found himself sneering. "He's a good boy! And he's the sweetest child ever, it's a wonder how he came from you!" Draco was angry—angrier than he'd ever been in his entire life. He grabbed her by the arm, dragging her out of the room.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She was punishing a child for making noise. Children were born making noise. In fact, Scorpius had made more noise the minute he came out of Pansy than any other time in his little life. It was as if he was complaining, 'Oh gawd, daddy, what the hell type of monster did you give me for a mother – get me away from her!' The minute Scorpius was handed to Draco, the boy instantly quieted and that was the happiest moment in Draco's life… the moment he got his son.

Pansy slapped Draco. He was so startled he let her go and put his hand to his cheek. He couldn't believe she'd actually hit him. _Him._ An Auror of the Ministry of Magic.

Draco felt anger beginning to boil inside him. She had a cold look on her face. She didn't even regret it. He supposed the most frightening thing of it was the fact that _she looked like him_. She looked like he used to feel.

He remembered years ago, when Harry-bleeding-savior-Potter had been there to use _Sectumsempra_ on Draco in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Draco wasn't **really** certain why the memory was in his mind, but as Draco fell to the ground he recalled the look of terror and surprise in Potter's eyes.

Maybe he was recalling that day because that was a look that Pansy _didn't_ have on her face. She looked coolly at him, and with hatred in her eyes.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore, Draco." She spat at him. "Look at how weak you've become! Ha! As if anyone would want a pathetic wreck like you anymore. You used to be a great guy, with potential to go wherever you wanted!"

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" he hissed. "Quit yelling, or you'll wake Scorpius!" He wanted his son to stay sleeping, so he was trying to keep his own voice down as well… but that was easier said than done.

"You're a _Malfoy_, Draco! Except now you've gone soft. You're simpering to the Ministry. You're cowering at the feet of blood traitors and mudbloods! Oh, how low you've sunk, Drakie." She tsked, her eyes burning with a dark rage.

"Soft?" he sneered at the woman. How dare she accuse him of going soft? How dare she accuse him of… well, maybe it wasn't as much an _accusation_ as it was the truth… damn it all, he sort of had been taken by the ministry. He wasn't getting promoted, but at least he wasn't a bloody house elf working for table scraps, and at least he wasn't in jail or _dead!_

"Yeah, Drakie. _Soft._ You'll bend over and lick the shit off Weasley's boots, won't you?"

Her words infuriated him, and he grabbed her by the collar of her robes, shoving her against the hallway wall with enough jolt that her little witches' cap fell to the floor. "What did you just say to me, you lying, cheating whore?" he demanded.

Fear shot through her eyes for only a second, but then she stubbornly raised her chin up high and sneered, "Do you _enjoy_ bending over the desk for Potter?"

"EXCUSE ME?" How the hell could she even say that? He hated Potter more than _anything_. And for her to even suggest that… that… oh _hell_ no! He was a Malfoy, proud and true. And no Malfoy would _ever_ even _consider_ such a vile act. So, perhaps he was a _bit_ homophobic, but what person…

"Spending a lot of time at the office, dear Drakie!" she said. "You disgust me!"

Not only that, but he would _never_ be unfaithful to his marriage. Since she had been unfaithful to him, it would give Draco a reason to divorce her. Getting a divorce was simply something Purebloods _did not do_. But, well… he'd just have to add another tally to the things that Purebloods didn't do, but Draco Malfoy _did._

"I disgust _you_? You beat my son!"

"That wretch isn't your son! HA!" she laughed and he thought she sounded a bit mad. Not angry-mad… more insane than anything. Ha, telling him Scorpius wasn't his son... how low had she fallen? Seriously. Did she expect him to believe that?

His eyes darted toward the door to Scorpius's bedroom. He wanted to reach out and hit this bloody woman for the suggestion and it took all of his will power to keep from doing just that. Draco wasn't a perfect man. Wait – yes, he was. Whatever he did was the right thing, regardless of the popular opinion of him. He was a pureblood and a Malfoy. He upheld high standards.

What he _wasn't_, was his father.

But he just couldn't hold himself back enough. He shoved Pansy toward the door. "Get out." He said it in such a cold voice, he scared _himself_. She looked terrified. "Get out, and don't you fucking _dare_ to come back. If I see you again, I swear by Merlin I will rip your heart out!"

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her to the door. Draco was seething, and just glad to have been able to get rid of her. He'd call the locksmith and have him change the locks when he got back from this forced vacation to France.

The next morning, Draco felt exhausted from a long night sitting at his son's bedside. Once Scorpius was awake, Draco went over everything he'd packed for their trip and gave his tiny tot a smile.

"You ready, son?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat at the word 'son'. What if Scorpius wasn't his? He'd been trying to shake that thought since Pansy put it in his head. She was just trying to get inside his head. She was drunk; Draco didn't hold much stock in the words of a drunk… but that 'what if' was buzzing around his head like an annoying fly quick enough to avoid a swatting spell.

"Where are we going, daddy?" Scorpius asked, his blue eyes enormous at the prospect of leaving the house two days in a row. "Are we going to stay at Madame Rosemerta's?"

"Not today. We're going a little farther than that today."

After his best friend decided to have an affair with Draco's own wife, Draco's opinion quickly became 'to hell with the plants' so he didn't bother to arrange for a house sitter. He didn't have any house elves anymore. He felt they'd become disgruntled and dishonest, _untrustworthy_ after hearing about Dobby betraying his family to Potter.

With Scorpius, Draco couldn't apparate out of Hogsmeade to London. He had to use the public floo in the three broomsticks, and _that_ was difficult. Flooing was disorienting enough, but add a squirming young boy, a suitcase, and a fireplace that just never seemed to be large enough and Draco was recalling why he hated floo to begin with. It was so very undignified.

Taking the port key once he got to the Department of International Travel was even harder with an excitable four year old who didn't want to focus on a single thing for more than two seconds. He had Scorpius hold the cup, put his hand over Scorpius's tiny hands, and had to make a giant effort to hold the suitcase and balance the child on his hip all at once.

When he got to the other side, he ended up dropping the suitcase on his foot, and getting clocked in the face by the port key that his son held. He could taste the blood from where his tooth cut into his lip.

"Welcome to France!" the travel woman at the desk greeted them with a smile on her face. She spoke French, which was no surprise for Draco, but Scorpius didn't understand it.

"Daddy, that lady is talking funny…" Scorpius said.

"Good day to you both," she then said in English. "Will you be staying in one of our international port-key travel ready hotels?" she took Draco's paperwork when he managed to fish it out of his pocket and limp over with it, his son, and his suitcase.

"No, thank you. My return is paid for, and I'll be using this location to return." He would have likely preferred to return in the port key hotel, but the ministry was paying for his vacation. They already had a hotel reserved for him… some place called La Ruse.

"And what will your purpose in France be?"

"Family vacation." Draco said, feeling a rather dry expression on his face. What the hell did she expect him to say? 'I'm here to begin a reign of terror the likes of which you've never seen any Dark Lord accomplish.' Yeah, whatever…

"How long will you be here?"

"Two weeks, if you'll care to read the paperwork." So maybe insulting the clerk was not the best idea. Her smile had changed into a narrowed, irritated expression.

The clerk stamped his paperwork and then Draco was finally on his way. He supposed he could have set his son down and let Scorpius walk on his own, eased pressure on his foot – which felt broken – but he chose not to.

As he walked out of the French Ministry's Department of International Travel, he wasn't quite sure why, but his eyes were drawn to a man with the whitest teeth Draco had ever seen in his life. They were so white, Draco almost wished he had sunglasses to cut the glare.

Scorpius shouted out as he pointed to the man, "SPARKLES!"

Cheeks pink with embarrassment at his son's outburst, Draco ignored the few people staring at him. He was better than them, so it didn't matter.

"Daddy, did you see that alien?" Scorpius asked.

Draco looked at his son in complete confusion. All he could think about was, 'what the hell is an alien?' But this was his son… and Scorpius was a child. And of course, Draco's life simply wasn't complete unless he'd done everything he could to spoil Scorpius. So regardless to the fact that he had no idea what magical creature Scorpius thought he'd seen, Draco nodded his head.

"Of course. That's what eyes are for, right?" he asked. He glanced at a nearby newspaper an older man sat on a bench reading in the Ministry lobby. He ought to get one soon… It might have local events in it that he could take Scorpius to – like book reading at the library or some silly little activity his son would enjoy but would haunt Draco for the rest of his life, maybe something to do with clowns and balloon spells… He caught a glimpse of a picture on the cover, what looked to be an Asian woman next to a table of a few children.

Scorpius grinned widely. "Yup!"

What he said next caused Draco's attention to be pulled away from the newspaper, but on second thought… he was the dad here… he was sure he could come up with non-traumatizing activities to do over the next few weeks. He didn't need a newspaper.

Scorpius said, "We're not freaky four eyes like Harry-bleeding-Potter!"

"You're right, son. He _is_ a freak of nature."

"I should have known it was wrong of me to think _you_ of all people might take a vacation from being an asshole." Draco froze at the voice of the one and only Harry Potter behind him.

Then, he glanced back at Harry with severely narrowed eyes. He was about to accuse Harry of stalking him, but then he noticed the tiny awe struck tots around Harry. Okay, so that was a bit odd… it was such a wide, huge world, and miraculously Harry chose to go to the same place on vacation that Draco did. However, thankfully Paris was a big enough place that Draco likely wouldn't see him ever again the entire vacation.

"You should know you're always wrong and stop wasting time." Draco snarked.

Scorpius nodded enthusiastically. _"Yeah!_ Don't think, Harry Potter!"

Harry looked frustrated as Draco smiled at his son. He was _such_ an angel. His little boy was pointing at Harry with a finger coated in saliva… unfortunately, Draco hadn't yet been able to get his son to kick the habit of finger sucking. "I don't know why you're here, Potter… I don't care why you picked Paris of all places to come… but you stay away from me and my son. I swear… if I see even a hair of your presence, I'll hex you to kingdom come!"

Draco turned and swept away with as much dignity as he could with a sore toe (thanks a lot, suitcase).

Harry called after him, "Yeah, well it isn't like I want to see _you_ on my vacation either, you rat faced asshole!"

Draco tried to ignore him. But then his son so innocently asked, "Daddy, what's a 'rat faced asshole' and why are you one?" Draco flinched. Add that to his long list of reasons to hate Harry Potter.

"Harry Potter is just saying mean things because he knows we're better than him and there's nothing he can do about it." Draco explained to his son. Whew. That was a pretty smooth explanation.

"Why?" Draco winced again. Great. Stupid bloody Potter got his son onto the 'why' questions. It would take him forever to get his son to stop asking 'why' to everything. It was a single word question that could never be satisfactorily answered. And children could spend _days_ on it. They practically _fed_ on the word, like it was something with substance that could sustain their vitals for months on end. Not that he wanted anyone to think of his son as 'ordinary' or 'common' but Scorpius liked to ask that question too.

And it killed him… every… time…

Draco was the sort of man who obeyed his child's whims rather than sensibility half the time. Any normal person who just portkey'd to another country might not want to carry two suitcases and a young boy around Paris looking for that place to eat that would satisfy a child of four years.

Draco was considerably _not_ ordinary. He was a Malfoy, so he was clearly extraordinary. And his son's tummy was more important than the fact that he disliked walking through muggle streets. At least he managed to land himself at a little wizard patronized café, even if the view out the window wasn't that great (was that a muggle food place? It looked more like a zoo with unruly children everywhere!).

He looked curiously at the tables and benches. They were all shaped like flowers and flower petals. The older woman who ran the place approached him with a bright smile. She spoke French, greeting him and asking if she could get him a drink while he looked over the menu.

Draco replied, "Water and a glass of black tea for myself, and sweet buttermilk for my son."

"Sweet buttermilk?" she asked curiously.

He sighed, "Just milk for him." They didn't have sweet buttermilk? What kind of place were they running anyhow?

"I'll bring those out in a few moments." She promised him.

He noticed the high traffic in this place, and the huge wait for his drinks alone. Scorpius wanted every single item on the menu explained thoroughly before he decided he didn't want any of it, he just wanted a melted cheese sandwich. After the woman came back, Draco placed his order and asked about his son's request (which wasn't so much a request, as she damn well better manage a simple melted cheese sandwich – did she know who she was dealing with?).

"Of course I can do that." She smiled at Scorpius. "Would you like some potato skins with that?"

Draco's son made a face. "Yuck!"

"He'll take them," Draco said, as punishment for his son saying such a muggle word. Draco needed to move away from Hogsmeade. Living next to Granger was doing Scorpius no favors.

Draco asked then, "You seem to be rather short handed. Why is that?"

"Oh _this_? This is just a handful of gawkers wanting to see where the crazy girl was all the time." She huffed, displaying her disgust.

"Crazy girl?"

"Poor woman. I had no idea she had escaped from an asylum! And kidnapped three children too! I had been letting her work here, no questions asked. Well, I'll not do that again, that's for sure." The woman said and bustled off to fetch their food.

Draco thought about that but was forced to put all thoughts to the back of his mind when Scorpius sloshed milk on himself – and then wiped his face on his sleeve?

Draco was already half way to selling his house, and he wasn't even back from forced vacation yet!

After lunch, he was able to take his son back to the ministry paid for hotel and get the key to it. The clerk looked at him in confusion as he took the key. "Going to be a bit crowded, won't it?"

"It's a hotel room; I never assumed it would be as spacious as I'd like." Draco retorted. It wasn't until he went up to the room and found Potter already there with his kids bouncing on the bed that he realized his error.

"FUCK." He growled.

Potter stood there, staring at him with a child's shirt half to being tucked away in a drawer. Then he looked annoyed. "Breaking into my hotel room already? Most wait until I've gone to do that."

"You've got it wr"—Draco was cut off by a squeal.

His son.

"Harry Potter, you are a naughty boy! Daddy's gonna spank you for being in our room!" Scorpius screeched.

Harry turned bright red. Draco felt awkward.

"There's a misunderstanding with the hotel," Potter said, as if that wasn't obvious.

Well, they all went down to get it straightened out. Draco even got snarky and demanded to speak with the hotel manager. There was no mistake. The ministry official they spoke to who arranged things, a one Ronald Weasley, told them they were to share a two double bed hotel room with an additional pull out bed.

Stubbornly, Draco looked at Harry. "Well, I see an obvious solution. You get yourself a different room."

"Hey, I'm not swapping rooms; you swap!"

They argued like this for a good ten minutes before coming to the conclusion that neither would switch. So they ran with their kids back up the stairs, shoving to be the first as the kids complained. They both made it to the door. They both shoved and pushed to not let the other enter. In the end, they both ended up in the hotel room, their children wandering to bounce on the beds as they panted by the door and glared at each other.

This wasn't over. Oh no, this war was just beginning.

**END CHAPTER.**


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